Coin Toss
by Rath101
Summary: It could end in only one of two ways. He would destroy her and live or she she could look away and let him die. 50% chance. Heads she lives. Tails she dies. Tails he lives. Heads he dies. But when you love so wholly... There really is only one choice.
1. It Can't Get Any Worse Than This!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Harry Potter' or anything relating to the series

**Summary: **It could end in only one of two ways. He would destroy her or she would save him. It was a 50% chance. Heads she lives. Tails she dies. Tails he lives. Heads he dies.

A dim light was all that lit the dark pub. It was rather silent for a Friday night; but not many ventured far from home anymore. Some were hidden in corners, heads bowed together, whispering dark secrets into each other's ears. Others were simply gathered around tables, playing drinking games, although the constant nervous glances towards the door betrayed their anxiety. Everyone had someone with them, many in large groups, while others fingered not-so-discreet weapons. The only one alone was a woman whose face was shadowed behind her cloak.

She jiggled her keys to a tempo only she recognized, the scarce light in the room only briefly shining off of the metal, as she sat, looking this way and that, as though expecting someone. Long, firm legs, holding a slim, lithe body, led to a splendidly shaped face. Very few things were prominent due to her dark cloak obscuring her features from view, but if one were to really look, they would see that her deep silver-grey eyes, with their sharp gaze, spoke of maturity and experience beyond her years. And although tattered and messy, the dark, wavy hair that was visible under her cloak fell to her waist and shone brightly like the sun.

The woman huffed in annoyance and shoved her keys back into her pocket, resorting to wait in silence. Few minutes had passed however; before her elegant fingernails continued with the abandoned beat, when finally, her awaited guests entered the Muggle pub.

The blonde haired woman smiled serenely with a far-off look in her eyes as she searched the room looking for someone, while her companion scanned for any signs of trouble. The man was slightly built, and could be mistaken for chubby, but he had an aura around him that said he was sweet and kind until you overstepped your boundaries. He stood close to his partner, keeping his hand on her lower back, prepared to grab her and throw her out of harm's way at the first sight of trouble. The woman barely noticed this as her blue eyes caught grey, and she skipped towards her cloaked friend, taking her sweetheart with her. The man regarded the woman sitting at the table with something akin to surprise littering his eyes.

"Hermione?" he questioned uncertainly.

The grey eyed lady, now known as Hermione, nodded and gestured for them to sit. Once they had, they ordered what the Muggles called 'Lemonade' before speaking to each other.

"It's been awhile, Neville, Luna," she greeted in a soft voice. "Have you been well?"

Luna nodded. "We've been in Scotland mostly. I don't quite like the weather, it attracts the Moon Frogs. While they're not particularly annoying, the farmers definitely don't like them…" she trailed off, unaware that her ramblings were being ignored.

Neville watched Hermione with a suspicious eye before asking, "Remember when you _stupefied _me in first year?"

Hermione smiled slightly but shook her head. "I didn't stupefy you, I used _petrificus totalus_, remember?"

Neville's shoulders slumped with obvious relief. He and Luna had had quite the journey there, having run into death eaters along the way, but Luna managed to outsmart them, and before they knew it, they were safely away from any danger and within walking distance of Hermione's selected meeting place.

Luna smiled and spoke again. "We're been very worried about you, Hermione. We rarely hear from you anymore and when we do it's only a short note. The last one simply said '_I'm alright, I'm onto something. Don't know when I'll be back_.' You shouldn't do that, it worries Molly very much and plays on her nerves, it does. It doesn't help that the _wrackspurts _have been bothering her of late."

Hermione nodded, barely listening to Luna's ramblings, which wouldn't matter if this all went according to plan, and sought Neville instead. "How's the safe house there?"

Neville, although still wary of her newfound appearance, answered. "It's secure. I saw Finnigan just last month. He wanted to come back to London, but it was too risky. We persuaded him to stay in hiding a bit longer, but Merlin knows he won't last long."

Luna nodded. "Ever since You-Know-Who killed Hannah I'm afraid he's been a little vengeful. The slightest rumor of a sighting has him running off without thinking. We're really worried about him. At this rate, he could be killed…" Luna trailed off sadly.

"Hopefully that won't happen if all goes well with the plan," Hermione interrupted. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes," Luna smiled. "We're ready whenever you are."

"Good, than I shall leave tonight."

Neville watched Hermione and sighed. "I'm against this Hermione. You know I am. You're not thinking properly. I mean, the old Hermione wouldn't even think…"

"That girl is dead, Neville," the once brunette snapped. "She died four years ago, along with three quarters of her classmates, half her professors and her entire family. She's done…gone. The new her has fresh ideas and is going to go through with this plan."

"But still…"

"I have not been preparing this for four years only to back out now! I no longer care what I could damage!"

Neville scowled at her. "You could screw things up. You could make everything worse!"

"It can't get any worse than this!" she yelled, attracting attention from already frantic pub members.

Neville stood glaring at her, but remembered to keep his voice low. "Hermione, this is wrong and you know it. You're not supposed to meddle with time!" he shouted as loud as he could without attracting the notice of surrounding Muggles.

"And live in this, instead?" she gestured around the room.

Scattered across the walls were numerous newspaper articles. All mentioned unexplained disappearances and massacres of towns and cities, leaving few alive, most dead and some in slavery. Pictures of missing person's posters hung on the wall of the pub, asking 'Have you seen this person?' in big, bold print. Some newspapers even had pictures of presumed killers, most frequent of which was Bellatrix Lestrange. There was also a bulletin board on the wall, with what Hermione presumed to be a bounty hunters information list, and had many familiar faces upon it, such as Seamus Finnigan, Remus and Nymphadora Lupin, and Arthur and Molly Weasley. There was one of Fred and George as well, but it had a large stamp over it, saying 'Eliminated', as did the pictures of Hannah Abbot and Cho Chang. Even more disturbing, was the face of a girl whom was once considered the smartest witch of her generation and also a part of the famous golden trio. She, Hermione Granger, had a bounty that was worth more than all the others combined.

Neville looked down at his feet. "Yes, I know. But still, you could make it worse…" he argued feebly.

"How could it be worse?" Hermione spat, preparing for a fight.

Neville went purple with rage, but Luna kept her hand on his, muttering soothing words in his ear until it went back to a healthy pink color.

"If you can't figure that out, you're not as smart as I thought Hermione. I'll meet you at the hotel, Luna." And with that said, he stormed off.

Luna's usually peaceful face was contorted with indecision for once. Did she help her friend or did she follow her lover? The loud slamming of the pub's door and the jumps of its occupants were enough to allow Luna to know he needed time to calm down.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Luna smiled softly. "I heard some rumors the other day; that Ron was running around somewhere in Prague. My source said he was tracking down a death eater..."

"Luna," Hermione interrupted her with a tired voice. "It wasn't Ronald. He went missing two years ago, remember? If he were alive, he'd have sent word somehow. He wouldn't be chasing after random death eaters."

"He would if it were Draco," Luna pointed out.

Hermione choked back a sob at the name. She bit her lip and hardened her eyes. "Don't say that name around me."

Luna nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry…"

Silence reigned around them again as they both fiddled with their Muggle drinks. Taking timid sips, Luna decided she liked wizard beverages better, and couldn't say she liked the strange bitter, yet sweet taste of 'Lemonade'. The silence was again broken, only this time it was Hermione.

"It's been so long," she murmured so softly that Luna almost missed it.

Luna didn't need to ask what she meant as she hummed her agreement. "I miss them too. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if Harry hadn't died."

Ignoring the stab in her heart and the flinch in her chest Hermione muttered, "That's what I intend to find out, Luna. I'll do it with or without yours and Neville's help."

Luna nodded and searched through her bag for a bit before coming across a fairly large box. "Here; it contains everything you asked for. Shall we see if it works?"

Hermione opened the box and looked inside to find many potions and documents, as well as a sack that contained a powder that would be crucial in her journey.

"Now, do you have _that_ something for me?" Luna enquired.

Hermione discretely slide her keys across the table to her blonde friend. Luna held them closely to her chest.

"It's already enchanted." Hermione told her.

Luna nodded, stood and smiled sadly. "Bottoms up, Penthesilea."

Penthesilea nee Hermione Granger threw back her hood revealing an ugly, deep scar that ran across her face. It started from the top of her right temple, across her right, blinded eye, and ended just below her parted lips. She grabbed one of the potions and swung her head back, swallowing it quickly.

She slammed the vial onto the table and clutched her face, whimpering in agony as Luna patted her back comfortingly. Her face shifted as if worms were wriggling underneath and Hermione held back tears, desperate for relief. After a few minutes, Penthesilea's pain subsided and she looked up at Luna worriedly.

"Did it work?"

Luna smiled coyly. "Like a charm."

Penthesilea hesitantly held her hand to her face to feel the unmarred skin and breathed in relief. She began looking around the pub, staring directly at random objects and sighed realizing that the spell had healed the hideous scar but her eye still remained as blind as a bats. She tried to quell the disappointed that rose in her chest, but immediately crushed it and cursed herself for her selfishness. This mission wasn't about her!

"Now," Luna started, interrupting Hermione's mental self-scolding, "that must be taken every month consistently. The hair coloring should go in your shampoo and the eye coloring potion in your drink." She leaned forward and whispered in ex-Hermione's ear, "_Don't _forget only a _sprinkle _of powder, otherwise you're only asking for trouble," she stressed pointedly, leaving the reason for its purpose secret in case someone _was _listening in. "The aging potion is only needed once. Anything else and you're on your own."

Penthesilea smiled. "Thank you, Luna," she said sincerely.

Luna smiled brightly. "It was no problem. Just make sure you succeed. I suppose that this is goodbye, Penthesilea," she said, turning to leave. She was almost out the door when she spun back around. "Hermione, can I ask one last favor?" At Penthesilea's nod, she continued, "Please make sure Neville and I meet," she requested shyly, timidly playing with her fingers. And then without waiting for an answer, Luna left without another word.

Hermione grabbed the box, tucking it under her arm, and looked at the vial that contained the future in the form of the past. She sniffed it a little and almost gagged at the revolting smell, but with a grimace, she shrugged and held it to her lips.

"Bottoms up."

It tasted as vile as she expected and she had to suppress the urge to vomit that instantly hit her.

'_For Harry, Ron and everyone else,' _she thought briefly, before the room suddenly started spinning, her stomach dropped, and her eyes squeezed shut, as her knees collapsed underneath her, sending her to the floor with a loud, painful thud.


	2. Penthesilea Neptune Malfoy

**AN: I've rewritten chapter 1, it hasn't really changed, and just a little bit more information has been added. It's recommended that you read it. I've also changed dates around a bit. Lucius Malfoy attended Hogwarts in 1965/1966 - 5 years before Sirius and co. started to attend. So, for the sake of the story, I've put them in the same year. **

Hermione awoke to find her irritated skin being pricked by grass, twigs and any other annoying foliage that could be found on the ground. She attempted to sit up, but her back and head protested and she fell back down to the ground, grunting and moaning in painful agony. The fall resulting from the potion she had taken was truly working a number on her, and it didn't help that her head was spinning in fast circles, making her more nauseous than she'd ever felt before. She tried to stand up, managing to get to her knees, before falling forward and onto her stomach, groaning as what appeared to be a rather large stone inserted itself into her abdomen. Her eyes widened in shock and without any logical thinking, she screamed bloody murder.

She quieted after a few seconds and whimpered as she pushed herself up with her weak arms and forced herself off of the rock by flinging herself sideways. Gasping and panting, she glanced down at her stomach, and after focusing her eyes for a few more moments, she was able to identify blood leaking from her wound. Tears sprang from her eyes as she clutched her side, well aware that she had torn not only the skin but muscle as well. Her clouded mind was nearly certain she wouldn't have any permanent damage, unless a scar was counted as one.

She lay there for a while, wincing in pain, noticing numbly that the ground was wet and that it must have rained recently. Honing in on her senses, she listened to the nature around her and was able to identify some dripping sounds and the briefest of winds. She sighed in relief that it wasn't overly cold, but she was still grateful for her thick cloak. She closed her eyes weakly, almost resigned to fall asleep, but even in her exhausted and confused state; she was able to realize that it was definitely not the time. Instead, her body froze moments later, when she heard a distinctive pop, followed by voices.

"Where did you hear the scream?" a man's strong voice chimed in, leaking with authority.

Thinking fast, Hermione was able to open the box Luna had given her with a newfound strength, and she retrieved the powder from it, holding in securely in her hand.

"Ozzy heard it from over there master. Ozzy didn't know what it was. Ozzy thought it was best to tell master…"

"My father isn't here so I shall deal with it," the man snapped, obviously annoyed about having to be outside in the wet and cold.

Hermione heard the crunching of leaves and the sound of leather boots against wet mud and waited with baited breath for whoever was coming. She half-opened her eyes and stared down the path where the noises were coming from, and not even a moment later, a tall teenager appeared. He stood proud and almost defiant against everything, with long, blonde hair that reached just past his shoulders, and grey eyes, so identical to hers, looking at her with curiosity and even slight revulsion.

He was definitely a Malfoy.

"Now, now, what have we here?" he asked patronizingly.

A small, malnourished house elf, dressed only in rags appeared, staring at the stranger with barely concealed fear. "An- Intruder?" he whimpered.

"Shut up!" Lucius growled, kicking the house elf, sending the poor creature to the ground, face first into the mud, which caused Ozzy to stand up and hit himself in despair of displeasing his master.

Using this momentary distraction to her advantage, Hermione opened the tiny sack and poured only the slightest bit of powder into her hand and blew it softly, watching with exhausted eyes as the tiny specks of glittering, gold powder flew through the air. The creature and Lucius stopped their little tirade as they inhaled the powder. And as their eyes glazed over, Penthesilea could almost see the fabricated memories settling into their minds. Snapping out of their strange stupor, they looked at Hermione for the first time with wide, horror filled eyes.

.

"Penthesilea!" Lucius cried, recovering from shock first as he rushed towards her.

The sound of his master's voice knocked the small little house elf out of his frozen state and he began rushing around. "Ozzy go to the main house to get help!" And within a millisecond, the servant was gone with a pop.

"Silea?" Lucius asked; true and genuine concern etched on his face. He pulled her small body into his lap and gave her a once over, which quickly turned into a twice over when he saw the gaping wound in her stomach. He gasped in shock, and gently shook the dark haired girl in his arms. "What did this to you?" he asked urgently.

Too weak to point with her hand, she bobbed her head in the direction of the stone, and he followed her gesture, growling when he saw the blood. "You collapsed again didn't you?" When she gave no answer, he shook her slightly in anger. "Didn't you?!"

She refused to answer and instead whimpered at the pain in her abdomen. Instantly, the rage disappeared from his eyes and was replaced with pure worry. "You're not supposed to go outside sister. It's not good for you. Especially with these cold winds, you'll only get sicker!"

A frazzled Ozzy reappeared suddenly with a resounding pop, accompanied by three confused people, whose eyes immediately sought out Lucius and the scene that met them.

They watched dubiously as the younger man fawned over the girl in his arms, and then turned to one another, each wondering what had happened, and curious as to if the girl was perhaps a lover.

One of the newcomers, a middle-aged man with short, but smartly styled blonde hair, and dressed in expensive velvet that proudly displayed his aristocratic status, stepped forward. "Son, what is this?"

Lucius looked questioningly at his father, but it quickly switched to rage. He opened his mouth to say something he'd most likely regret when Hermione shifted in his arms. "Don't' move Silea," he cooed softly in her ear, whispering sweet words to her, trying to help her forget her pain.

The other adults stared at the scene in front in front of them with something akin to shock. Never had they seen Lucius Abraxas Malfoy act so affectionately or vulnerable towards another before. It was if this girl in front of him was his life. The second of the group, a middle-aged woman whose short, dirty blonde hair, worn in a fashionable bob that match her green fall coat and long, black satin skirt, threw caution to the wind and rushed forward, kneeling next to the girl.

She began to ask what had happened, but the gaping wound in the girl's stomach caught her attention.

"Healer Donovan, this girl needs medical treatment."

Knowing when he was being called, the elderly man in white robes that had accompanied them, which had, to Hermione smelled very strongly of sterile medical equipment, rushed forward with the medical kit the house elf had insisted he bring with him, and knelt before the girl.

Hermione discreetly brought her hands to her lips again and blew softly, sending the powder to be inhaled by the healer and wife of senior Malfoy. They paused for a second, before blinking and looking down at her. The woman's eyes widened in unadulterated terror and started shouting orders to the healer who, quite suddenly, knew everything about this girls' health status. He remembered treating her for her mysterious illness since infancy - no - sooner than that, since her first breath.

Abraxas Malfoy stared in stunned silence at his usually docile wife, as she barked orders at a man who rarely took demands well, who was kneeling there doing everything he was told and more, looking at the girl with an affection that hadn't been present when he'd first seen her. Abraxas Malfoy took a step back, instantly knowing something was strange. His wife never fussed over anything like this, not even when Lucius took ill did she act as madly as this.

"Abraxas, help, we need to get her to the house!" his wife called.

Alarms rang loud and clear in his head now. His wife never invited anyone to the manor unless it was for a party of some sort, or unless she absolutely had to. But under no circumstances, had she ever allowed a stranger, wounded or otherwise, into their house.

"Abraxas!" Neptune screamed at him, hysteria creeping into her voice.

Breaking out of his stupor at the sound of his wife's voice, he rushed forward and grabbed the girl from his son's arms. "Which room?" he asked, knowing his wife was exceptionally picky about where guests were to stay.

She, their son, the healer and even the elf stared at him incredulously before screeching "Her room!"

Confused but terrified of his wife's terror, he apparated to the house, sure the others were right on his tail. Appearing in the main hallway, Abraxas finally realized the words they told him. 'Her room', but this stranger surely didn't have a room… did she? Suddenly, he paused, and looked down at the bundle in his arms and his heart stopped. She was looking at him, wearing a grim smile, while her blood dripped randomly; leaving small droplets on the floor and his eyes widened in shock as memories slammed into him like a ton of bricks.

This was Penthesilea Neptune Malfoy, his youngest daughter; the child that was never expected and the twin sister of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. It took a full minute to resuscitate her when she was born without breath, and even then, she could hardly breathe and had trouble even opening her eyes; none of the healers, not even months after her birth, could identify the cause of her sickly disposition. So they raised their daughter in secret, confining her to her room, letting her out rarely, and never allowed her to be in the company of someone that was not family. If it were not for Lucius' uncanny appearance to himself, Abraxas might possibly have accused his wife of adultery for their child's nature and appearance. Where everyone in both their families had blonde hair, she had the blackest of hair that seemed almost fitting for one of the House of Black. The girl grew up strong in mind and spirit, but exceptionally weak in body. She had everyone she'd ever met wrapped around her finger, and she was given everything she wanted; except for the freedom to join her brother outside; which often led to him staying inside with her and keeping her company.

This was his daughter, his only daughter, whom he loved dearly.

He rushed up the stairs and into her room, momentarily puzzled as to why he had apparated into the hallway and not directly into her room as Neptune had commanded. Laying her down onto her bed, he was quickly followed by Healer Donovan, who began reciting many incantations over his daughter's prone body, while all her family could do was wait.

Hermione awoke many hours later, with a pain in her side and a throbbing head to the sounds of hushed whispering.

"How did she get out? She could barely sit upright in her bed this morning let alone go for a walk in the gardens!" A woman screeched semi loudly.

"You know our daughter, when she sets her mind to something, nothing, especially an illness, will stop her."

"But she knows she isn't allowed outside. It's bad for her health!"

"Maybe she went because she's never allowed outside," the man argued.

The woman fell silent for a moment before she spoke in a deadly calm voice. "And where were you Lucius? Were you not supposed to be watching her? Making sure that she had everything she needed to keep her entertained?"

A quiet mumbling reached Hermione's ears in reply "I was with her all morning, by noon she looked about ready to faint so I took my leave so she could rest. If I had believed even for a moment that she was pretending I wouldn't have left her alone."

"That doesn't matter, Lucius! Your sister was hurt because of your negligence!"

"Do not for a moment claim that I haven't looked after her, mother!" the younger man spat.

"Don't speak to me that way!"

"Then stop saying I'm a pathetic excuse for a brother!"

"I never said that!"

"You implied it!" 

"Neptune," the elder man's voice interrupted, finally ended the fight. "Let us leave. Lucius will take care of her." The woman scoffed and made to argue again, but her husband stopped her. "She would rather wake up to him than us, and I frankly don't trust you two to stay in the same room at the moment."

With a huff of indignation followed by a door slamming, silence fell over the room.

A gentle and cool hand rested softly on her forehead, caressing her hair slightly.

"Sleep little Silea. You'll feel better tomorrow."

Hermione obeyed the voice immediately.

Hermione groaned in annoyance as Lucius, her fake brother, fussed over her, asking questions of her wellbeing and comfort. Hermione gave one word responses, not wanting to risk anything, as she didn't know exactly where her relationship stood with her pseudo brother.

So far, everyone in the household had been given the Iocain powder that was given to Hermione by Luna Lovegood. Iocain, a deadly poison to the mind, could completely wipe someone's memories as effectively as an obliviate spell if used correctly. However, if used incorrectly, but still efficiently, the poison could form specific patterns in one's mind, creating an entirely different set of memories altogether. Luna, having been the one to create the memories, was the only one who knew what was hidden beneath the surface of them. Penthesilea, as Hermione was now called, seemed to have a rather close relationship to her twin, especially if Lucius' tripping over himself to heed her needs and desires was any indication.

It had been a week since Hermione had been found nearly unconscious in the garden, and the wound at her side was still fairly bad, though not as bad as it could have been. In fact, judging from Healer Donovan's frequent visits and check-ups, it appeared that Hermione (Or really Penthesilea) was supposed to be sick. She decided, that Luna must have thought this through better then Hermione did, because she learnt quickly that this ruse, along with all its potions and charms, was rather exhausting on her psych as well as physically.

Neptune Malfoy, after the healer and Lucius of course, was the one who visited the bed-ridden teen the most. She would only stay for a few minutes and conversation was strained, even on her fake mother's end. It appeared that they had a good enough relationship, but they seemed to have had a dispute recently, one Neptune seemed all too happy not to bring up. Hermione was often pushed into doing things with her false mother that she didn't normally participate in, like doing each other's nails and hair, and talking about girly things that Hermione usually sat silent through. Her visits were unwelcome and annoying.

Abraxas visited less than the house elves. He looked at her with concern, but he was constantly guarded. At first, Hermione believed him suspicious and perhaps immune to Iocain powder, but he yielded to her every desire and would stumble over his own words when trying to scold her, as if he felt too guilty to even attempt to.

The house elves seemed to love her very much, although they were disinclined to show her any form of affection that would be considered inappropriate for a slave to have for their pureblood mistress. A house elf named Bubsy was her very own personal house elf, and although she was a sweet mannered little thing, she was very stern and often obeyed Lucius' orders over her own; which frequently resulted in Hermione being bed-ridden. Ozzy, Hermione decided quickly, was her favorite. He may have been considered Lucius' own elf, but Lucius sent Ozzy to watch over her so often that he may as well have been hers.

To be blunt, Hermione was going stir crazy. She was not allowed to leave the house because her 'illness rendered her too weak', and even her rule breaking, fake brother refused her request to step outside for a few moments. So, when Lucius fluffed the pillows once more before gently lifting her head to ease it onto the pillow, she snapped.

"Lucius, I'm not an invalid!"

His head whipped up so fast she was surprised it didn't detach itself and go flying. "Silea, I know you're not. But your weak, and going out into the garden did not help your health. The wound hasn't fully healed either…"

Hermione sighed. Another down side to this little adventure was her lack of healing abilities. It seemed that even the slightest paper cut took an entire month to heal now instead of the few days it normally would. She also couldn't pretend to be oblivious to her weak knees and wobbly arms. She hated asking for help, especially from Malfoy Sr, but he seemed to know what she was thinking even before she did. It was bizarre and scared her to some extent; initially believing that Luna had made it to where they had some sort of twin telepathy that may give away her secret. But she discarded that thought when Lucius often asked on her thoughts.

"I want to go outside," Hermione persisted stubbornly.

Lucius made a sound that resembled a growl before getting up and pacing the room.

Hermione took that moment to _really _look at the man she'd call her brother from now on. He towered over her by at least a foot with an intimidating presence, and she was ashamed to admit that she often recoiled at his superior height, but then his cold, grey eyes would soften when looking at her. His eyes; so much like _his_, that Hermione could not bring herself to look into them… not and be able to ignore the clenching feeling in her gut, the memories that assaulted her mind and the hatred she knew would be reflected in her own orbs.

"Silea," he sighed, bringing the Gryffindor out of her musings. "I can't risk you getting sick again."

"I'm getting better, _brother_," she forced herself to say, although she couldn't quite hide the sarcasm as she voiced his pseudo title.

He looked down at his feet and turned his back to her. His fists where clenched and Hermione had a sudden feeling of fear rip through her chest. He wouldn't hurt her would he?

Instead, he sighed, and Hermione almost cried in relief until his broken voice reached her ears. "What have I done, sister?"

Silence reigned in the room for a moment, and Hermione was flabbergasted, unsure of how to answer a question she didn't even understand why it was being asked.

His eyes sought hers, but she deterred her gaze, focusing her own artificial grey eyes on her manicured nails.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, something Hermione quickly discovered he did when annoyed or stressed, and he looked anywhere but at her.

"What have I done to make you hate me so? Don't deny it! I know it's true. You can't even look me in the eyes anymore." He was met with silence. "Mother and father believe that we smothered you too much and that you left to go for a walk in the gardens on your own before falling. I thought the same, but now I am unsure." He walked hesitantly towards the bed and Hermione felt it dip slightly, indicating that he'd sat down. He gently caressed her face before cupping it, and forced her to look into his eyes. His grey orbs bore into her defiant, identical ones, as he pressed his forehead against hers. "Silea, did you try to run away?"

Silence permeated the room when she did not answer; no…couldn't answer. Her heart beat fast as she looked into eyes that were identical to _his _yet held a different sort of passionate emotion in them. She could barely breathe as panic entered her system when she tried to think of an answer, one she knew she didn't have. She needn't have worried though, as he took her silence as confirmation of his suspicion.

He rose from the bed slowly and began pacing the room.

"If I were, so to speak, ask our parents to ignore your condition and allow you to go to you-know-where, would whatever I've done to you be forgiven? And do you promise never to attempt to run away again?"

Hermione didn't know what you-know-where was but the way her new brother's voice slightly trembled in uncertainty was enough to understand that it was something Luna had wanted to happen. It was where she was supposed to go.

"Yes."

"Promise me!" he urged passionately, shaking her slightly.

"If you succeed; yes, I promise."

Lucius nodded, seemingly not so sure now. "I cannot guarantee that they'll accept. They never have before, even after all these years."

Knowing that Lucius would do anything for his baby sister, Hermione looked into his eyes, barely hiding her flinch as she widened her eyes even more.

"Please, brother."

He left the room with a determined stride, not needing another word of encouragement.


	3. People Worthy of My Company

"Silea? Are you ready?" Lucius' voice called through the closed door.

"Just a minute!" Hermione shouted back.

She shoved the last of her things in her trunk and smiled. She was going to Hogwarts. Wrestling with her trunk and looking absolutely stupid at the same time, Hermione grunted in annoyance.

The door swung open and in walked Lucius, looking concerned.

"Trouble with your trunk?"

Hermione swallowed her pride and nodded, stepping aside and allowing him to handle her trunk, which he did effortlessly.

Hermione cursed her new, weak body and almost howled in frustration.

"Silea," Lucius started, although Hermione knew what he'd say. "Are you sure-?"

"I'm sure!" she snapped, reaching around him to grab her trunk and attempting to lift it off of the bed, only to have it fall to the floor with a large bang, narrowly missing both their feet.

Lucius sighed and hefted it up upon his shoulder, walking out of the room without another word, and Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty for yelling at him.

He had been the ideal brother. He worried for her welfare and cared for her. Sure, he was over-protective and perhaps overbearing at times, but he did love her.

Hermione shook her head. He loved Penthesilea. Not the _Mudblood _Granger.

She then smiled at the thought of returning to Hogwarts. It appeared that the 'you-know-where' was Hogwarts. She received her letter just like her brother when she turned eleven. She had been ecstatic, thrilled and squealed almost deafeningly loud; Lucius' description not hers. Apparently though, her parents and Healer Donovan believed it not in her best interests to attend. Lucius had thrown a fit, not wanting to leave Silea behind, but no one argues with Abraxas Malfoy and not walk away losing; except for a week ago when Lucius' stubbornness and love for his sister caused him to be victorious. No one believed it would ever happen again.

So here she was. Her trunk downstairs with her 'mother', 'father' and 'brother' preparing to apparate to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well technically to the Kings Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express at platform 9 and 3/4.

"SILEA!" Abraxas boomed in a loud voice, causing Hermione to jump in fright.

Calming her heart, she went down stairs.

They arrived at Kings Cross a mere ten minutes later, grabbed a trolley, and walked through the station. Hermione was almost bursting with excitement, which the others seemed to find contagious, even Abraxas. But no matter how much her enthusiasm amused the Pureblood family, they stilled turned their nose up at any Muggles that crossed their paths.

When they reached platform 9 ¾, it was empty of Muggles and any magical folk, suggesting they were relatively early. After explaining that she was to run though the wall, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy disapparated, leaving their children to their own business.

"You first, Silea," Lucius offered with a wicked grin on his face.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, not liking his tone. He probably thought she would collapse when she reached the other side. Smiling sweetly, (And judging from Lucius' face a little _too _sweetly), she ran through the wall like a professional and waiting for him to follow. The second he was in sight, Hermione expertly dodged the trolley and tucked her leg under his feat.

Lucius met the floor with a nice, welcoming face plant.

Grinning evilly, Hermione skipped off, ignoring the blonde's distant threats, maneuvering her luggage as she hopped onto the train, and then waltzed down the corridor until she found hers, Harry's and Ron's normal compartment.

Suddenly, her good mood was gone. Her eyes fell to her feet and she felt tears come to her eyes, almost being able to imagine Ron and Harry bursting into the compartment at any moment, chatting animatedly about their summer or discussing Quidditch and how they'd beat Slytherin again that year, while she rolled her eyes in the background, read a book and added her two cents in every few moments. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay.

She hadn't cried when she'd seen Harry's mangled body, or when Ron went missing with Ginny, both desperate for revenge. No tears were shed when Ginny's blood and a bracelet Harry had given her were found in an abandoned Death Eater's safe house, or even when she gave up hope of ever finding Ron alive. Tears hadn't fallen when her favorite red headed twins died, or when she looked into a mirror for the first time after her run in with Fenrir Greyback left her scared and half blind. And she definitely didn't cry when Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured her for hours in Malfoy Manor. So she would _not _cry now, just because she was homesick.

She swallowed her tears and looked out the window, counting the clouds that floated by. Twenty minutes passed as she sat there, blissfully forgetting her past, before the compartment door burst open and the sound of chattering entered her ears.

_Harry! Ron! _

No, her mind scolded itself. They were dead. Or weren't even born yet, depending on how you looked at it.

The talking stopped, but Hermione refused to look up at the people that surely weren't Ron and Harry.

"Now, now, who do we have here?" a familiar voice asked.

Stunned, her head shot up and her artificial grey eyes met a murky hazel, hidden behind black tendrils and thin rimmed glasses.

Not Harry. She reminded herself. Not Harry.

"Hello," was all she said, before looking out the window again, allowing an awkward silence to permeate the compartment.

"Excuse me, beautiful," a husky and naturally aristocratic voice filled the room. Her heart stopped. She knew that voice. "But this is our compartment. We're not against you being here, but if you're staying, you need to include yourself in our conversations." She could almost hear the wink that followed. "Eye contact would also be nice too, _Belle_."

Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked into a pair of silver eyes that were at the same time, familiar and foreign. The color was the same as she remembered, but the torment of years filled of Azkaban and self-blame were gone from his eyes, and in its stead was a strong thirst for life.

He smiled charmingly. "See? That wasn't so hard now was it?"

She shook her head, not sure what to say. The last time she saw this man he was dying with an arrogant expression on his face and a haughty smile. Her heart beat faster as she realized that Sirius Black was standing in front of her alive and well.

Suddenly, a hand blocked her view and she looked to its owner, surprised to see another familiar face. It was Remus Lupin: one time professor at Hogwarts and dear friend to her. Back in her time she hadn't seen him in a while, as he was in hiding with Tonks and Teddy, trying to raise their son in the slight extra protection of the Muggle world.

"I'm Remus Lupin," his youthful, although still scared face greeted, smiling warmly down at her.

"Nice to meet you," she replied in kind, looking around the compartment for unnecessary introductions.

"I'm James Potter!" exclaimed the dark haired, bespectacled boy cheerfully.

"Peter Pettigrew," a timid voice called from behind James. Hermione was grateful she couldn't see the traitor rat, in case she lunged and tried to kill him with her bare hands.

"Sirius Black, at your service," Sirius pronounced dramatically, holding her hand and bowing over it. "Enchanté, Mademoiselle," he murmured, placing a gentle, yet lingering kiss upon her knuckles.

If it had been anyone other than Sirius Black, Hermione would have blushed, but instead she laughed hysterically, clutching her sides in her mirth.

The four infamous marauders stared at her as if she'd grown another head.

"Padfoot, why do you always go for the nutters?"

"No idea, mate. I think they're drawn to me," Sirius replied, looking at James concerned. "Is there a sign or something on my head that says 'Looney's this way'?"

By this point, Hermione had contained herself and smiled brightly.

"Sorry, I needed that. I haven't had a laugh in ages."

Sirius smiled cheerfully. "In that case, all is forgiven!"

They all sat down; James, Peter and Remus on one side, Sirius and Hermione on the other.

"What's your name?" Remus asked, taking a book out of his trunk and looking about ready to read the rest of the train ride.

"Silea," she responded, knowing none would know the name and judge her, probably thinking her name was the Muggle name 'Celia'.

"So," James started, "how come we've never seen you before?"

Hermione looked down and stuttered for a minute. "I wasn't allowed to attend Hogwarts until this year. I was finally able to convince my parents to let me come." _More so Lucius_…

He nodded. "Are you Muggleborn?"

Hermione opened her mouth to say yes, but a lock of black hair fell over her eyes, instantly reminding her that she was currently Penthesilea Malfoy and not Hermione Granger. So instead she shook her head. "What has that got to do with anything?"

James smiled. "I was just curious to see if you not coming to Hogwarts before now had to do with Muggle parents, since your name is relatively Muggle."

Hermione nodded, seeing how plausible the reaction was.

"Who cares what she had to do to get here, she's here!" Sirius exclaimed. His face suddenly changed and he looked at her intently. "What house do you reckon you'll get into?"

The silence that hovered over the cart was heavy. Remus' nose popped out from over his book to hear the answer, Peter's face came into view for the first time, and James looked at her with almost hypnotic eyes that chanted 'Gryffindor', while Sirius' eyes looked haunted.

"I guess the Sorting Hat will put me where I'm most suited." she responded lamely.

Three nodded but Sirius still looked tense.

"Hmmm," James started looking her up and down, "Do you play Quidditch?"

The fear in her eyes must have been obvious, because indignant exclamations filled the room, and Hermione suddenly found herself signed up for lessons with the best Quidditch players of their generation.

They spoke for ages about Quidditch before moving on to other topics; all of which were light, with no hidden messages leaking through, and no sudden change of demeanor. It was also strange that Lucius hadn't pounded down the door, dragging her away into the Slytherin compartments and fussing over her health. It was a pleasant change.

She spoke _way _too soon.

Not even a moment after the thought entered her head, the door slid open violently, disrupting the group's talk of oncoming pranks they were planning. It was Lucius and he looked positively livid.

The four boys around her looked surprised by his abrupt entrance, and even more so by his furious expression; they hadn't done anything to piss him off…yet. Their shock, however, did nothing to deter their usual antics, if Sirius' response had anything to say about it.

"Why Loui! What a pleasant surprise! I was just saying we need to have you over for a nice cup of tea. But perhaps another time, you look positively constipated."

His three friends covered their laughs, but they frowned when Lucius didn't so much as much as look in their direction. Their concern grew, when they noticed exactly whom his angry gaze was on.

He charged towards her, his eyes blazing, and had almost made to reach for Hermione until James and Sirius stood in his way, blocking his direct path.

"Potter, Black. Move," he spat through clenched teeth.

"Nu-uh. Not while you're looking like your about to murder a helpless girl."

Hermione bristled a little at Sirius' comment, but she remembered her weakened health (For once) and realized it was true. Her resentment towards him diminished completely when it had the desired effect.

"Silea," Lucius said, much softer. "Come with me." His tone left no room for argument.

She slowly stood, walking towards her trunk, when Sirius grabbed it for her and pulled it from her reach.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you with him while he's that angry," he whispered softly to her, his chivalrous nature coming forward.

"I'll be fine."

Taking her trunk from him (Dropping it and causing an exasperated Lucius to pick it up), she left with a farewell, a wave and a smile.

After the door closed, the Marauders huddled together, wondering what had just happened.

Lucius' nails dug into her arm as he hauled her into a compartment filled with eager first years.

"Out, now. All of you!" he growled, making the first years scurry from the compartment in terror.

They tripped over their own feet, rushing to collect their luggage and fighting with their robes to jump over each other. They each raced out the door, leaving the compartment door wide open, the last girl squeaking uncertainly before bolting out the door quicker than lighting striking the earth.

"Lucius, you can't-" Hermione went to scold, but was cut off by the warning look in her pseudo brother's eyes.

He slammed the compartment door shut and pushed her down on the seat, glowering down at her from his standing position. His shoulders were stiff and Hermione could almost imagine every vein in his body about to burst in barely concealed fury. If she hadn't felt a slight twinge of fear at being confronted by a furious Lucius, she might have found his purple face funny.

"Explain," he demanded.

Hermione knew exactly what Lucius meant, but this man had caused her many problems in the future. She smiled coyly on the inside. Perhaps she could give him the slightest bit of hell, and as Silea, she could at the very least get away with it.

It was silent for a minute and then Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry about tripping you."

His eyes narrowed dangerously, showing he was anything but amused. "No, not that, after that; although the apology is appreciated."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "I ran off on my own?"

His eyes became slits. "_After _that."

"I didn't do anything after that."

"Who were you talking to?" he spat.

Hermione raised her chin defiantly and said proudly.

"People worthy of my company."

He growled almost inhumanly and threw her trunk across the compartment, narrowly missing the window and slightly denting the wall, making her nearly jump out of her skin in fright. His back was turned to her and Hermione watched the back of his shoulders heave heavily with his panting breath. His knuckles had gone so white, Hermione was sure that his skin might split.

Her voice escaped her, and she growled internally at her lack of bravery. She was a _Gryffindor_! Courageous and brave even to the point of _stupidity _and here she was, cowering before her enemy's anger and actually flinching at any of his sudden movements. Even before five Death Eaters she showed more defiance. She blamed it on her new health problems and lack of strength along with being out of shape from being bedridden for the past many weeks, but a voice in her head said it was _His _fault - not hers or even Lucius'.

He spun around and stared her down, but Hermione instinctively avoided his gaze, knowing his silver eyes would turn to a dark grey color when angered, just like _His _used to. Even with her Gryffindor courage, one would be completely starker's to anger an already infuriated Malfoy, so she kept her mouth shut, slightly annoyed at her earlier pettiness in her attempt to deliberately anger him.

He sighed greatly and kneeled down in front of her.

"You still can't look me in the eye," he said solemnly.

He breathed in deeply in preparation for what he was about to say.

"Silea," he said delicately, trying to catch her avoiding gaze but failing. "They were Blood Traitors. We do not associate with them. Sirius Black was disowned from the Noble House of Black this summer past. James Potter and his parents support Muggles and Mudbloods alike." Hermione scowled at this and opened her mouth to correct him but he raised his hand in a silent command to stop. "Peter Pettigrew, although a Pureblood, has no connections, wealth nor status. He may not be against or for Muggles but he's definitely not good company. As for Remus Lupin, he's a Half Blood. Not as bad as Potter and Black but his blood has no purity. Silea, you must choose your friends wisely. One mistake and you could suddenly find yourself all alone in the world," he finished, brushing his hand against her cheek in a platonic, loving gesture.

He grasped her hands and pulled her up before linking their arms.

"Time to meet more appropriate students," he said smiling.

Hermione nodded, still slightly disgusted with his speech and nervous as to who she was about to meet.

Or more specifically, which of the future Death Eaters she'd meet.

He guided her through the train and they made it perhaps halfway before someone intervened.

It was a woman of regal beauty and showed all the signs of a true born aristocratic female. She had long, blonde flowing hair that reached her lower back as straight as a ruler. Her skin was pale and looked ice cold to touch, and judging from the character Hermione knew her by - she would not be surprised to learn that the woman was as cold blooded as she was pure. Her rigid blue eyes were glazed with self-importance but also with a hint of childish naivety that Hermione knew would not linger for much longer. She didn't need to guess who she was looking at.

It was Narcissa Malfoy nee Black.

She gave a stiff and practiced smile to Lucius before kissing his cheek tenderly. Lucius gave her a dull smirk that didn't look at all pleasant on his features before he gestured to the woman on his arm.

"Silea, I would like you to meet my betrothed; Narcissa Black. Narcissa, I'd like you to meet my beloved and most precious sister, Penthesilea."

Something flashed behind Narcissa's eyes, before her façade returned and she offered her hand to Hermione.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Penthesilea. Lucius speaks of nothing else."

Hermione smiled brightly. More so because she knew it wasn't true at all that Lucius spoke of her, after all she didn't exist until a few weeks ago.

Grasping Narcissa's much smaller and delicate hand in her own fragile one, Hermione shook her hand gently.

"You as well, Narcissa."

Brief exchanges were made between the girls, mainly pleasantries of health, family and acquaintances. Lucius had given Narcissa a stern look when she had queried as to the reason of Hermione's previous absences of Hogwarts years, but Hermione responded in kind to the woman, hoping to save her from Lucius' temper.

"My health only allows me to do so much. It is due to my brother's actions alone that I am here today."

Lucius' chest puffed up slightly and a proud smile appeared on his face as Narcissa was wordlessly forgiven for her indiscretion. Hermione quickly realized that what she had just done must not be something common amongst Slytherins, if the look of appreciation and shock on Narcissa's face was anything to go by. Judging from the ones she knew well, she would not be surprised. She also knew that even though she had Narcissa's gratitude, the stern blonde would not return the favor for her without some self-benefit.

They quickly reached their desired compartment, (although not so much in Hermione's case), and silence ensued when they entered. Hermione quickly scanned her eyes around and tried to mentally categorize who was who and what their danger level towards her was currently.

There were only three.

The one to her immediate left she identified quickly as Regulus Black. There was no one else at Hogwarts who could possibly match the description of a mini Sirius as this boy could. Although similar to Sirius in features, there were very obvious differences. Regulus had his robes immaculate, his hair was neat, tidy and didn't touch the collar of his shirt and he didn't have a goofy, welcoming grin upon his face. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Remembering his selfless yet sacrificing act with the destruction of Voldemort's locket Horcrux, but knowing that he was currently a faithful, yet reluctant follower, Hermione quickly categorized him as potentially dangerous but not long term.

The next, Hermione noticed with a pang in her chest, was Severus Snape, her ex-potions teacher, reading a book rather intently and barely noticing her presence - _not much will change_, she thought wryly. He had died many, many years ago, but even in the end, they still hadn't known what side he was on, since he had murdered Dumbledore and allowed death eaters to infiltrate not only Hogwarts but also the Ministry of Magic, but had also been murdered by his fellow Dark Eaters. It was rumored that Voldemort acquired a new way of gaining power, by leeching onto another and sucking them dry magically, and that Snape had willingly volunteered to give up his own life for his master's cause. However, a young fifth year Muggleborn was found wandering Hogsmeade a week after his death, and confessed that Snape had saved her life and about three dozen other Muggleborns and Half-Bloods by smuggling them out from under the Carrows personal torture chambers. Hermione had not the slightest idea of his stance in the war, and she doubted even Snape knew himself, but she wasn't blind to his obvious skills in the Dark Arts and knew without a doubt he could massacre her easily if he so desired. She would definitely keep her guard up around him.

The final man in the compartment was one she'd never seen before. He had features that she recognized, but nothing overly prominent. Perhaps he was related to someone she knew in the future? He had dark brown, almost black hair that, like Regulus, was trimmed and styled cleanly. His eyes were an unexciting brown that held a hardness and maniacal glee in them that instantly put Hermione on guard; to the point where she was forcibly restraining her itching hand from her wand.

Narcissa sat down next to her cousin Regulus, but stayed politely silent, waiting until after introductions were made before conversing.

"Everyone, this is Penthesilea, my sister."

Every head other than hers, Narcissa's and Lucius' shot up in surprise. Even Snape who was currently reading and whom barely showed anything akin to shock was looking rather gob smacked.

Lucius raised his brow in confusion. He could've sworn he'd mentioned her before, if not frequently at least in passing. He gritted his teeth in silent frustration at his absentminded and sometimes useless friends.

"Silea, to my left next to Narcissa is her cousin, Regulus Black." Regulus acknowledged her presence with a nod but offered no more, which Hermione was grateful for. Lucius seemed slightly put out by the lack of reception by his friend but moved on regardless. "To my right is Severus Snape." Severus, just like Regulus, only gave a nod of recognition before turning his abnormally large hooked nose back into his potions textbook; which reminded Hermione strongly of the one Harry came across many years before. Again, her brother's eyes narrowed further. "And last but certainly not least, Rabastan Lestrange." Hermione felt her heart break slightly at seeing the man who would contribute to the merciless and needless torture of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, parents of her dear friend Neville, and knowing that there was little to nothing she could do to save their sanity.

Rabastan waltzed up to Hermione with an arrogance that could only be found in a pompous Pureblood, and grasped her hand before laying a kiss upon it.

"My Lady," he smirked slyly.

Hermione fought the urge to gag.

But Lucius had not yet finished in introducing Rabastan and continued to say something that made Hermione's entire body freeze colder than a glacier.

"You're betrothed."

The only satisfaction she got from that sentence was when Lestrange looked just as astounded as her, but that disappeared as quickly as it came and turned into gut wrenching fear when his surprise turned into malicious delight.


	4. Thank You, Snape

If you asked Hermione what went on the rest of the train ride to Hogwarts, she could honestly say she didn't know. She was too numb to really listen to any of the conversation that occurred, but not oblivious to the gazes she received from everyone.

Especially from Rabastan.

Hermione's quick brain was able to determine that he was the reason Penthesilea and Mrs. Malfoy weren't talking anything beyond civility. Or more specifically their engagement was the reason they weren't speaking. Hermione knew that there was a rift between the women but she didn't think for a moment that it could have something to do with a betrothal; and by the looks of it, a forced engagement on both sides. But why of all people did it have to be Rabastan Lestrange?

She shuddered slightly at the thought of marrying such a brutal man; such a malicious, evil, horrible abomination of human life. A man who along with his brother, sister-in-law and friend, mercilessly tortured the Longbottoms into incurable insanity; a sweet, innocent couple that had her friend Neville. The worst thing about it was that if she really wanted to keep up appearances before she completed her mission, then she may very well have to go through with it. She only hoped that their Pureblood supremacy was as strongly intact as it looked, so that maybe disinheritance was a very real possibility. But then again that would make her mission harder.

Destroy Voldemort and save as many lives as she could. That was why she was here. That's all. If she had to sacrifice bits of herself along the way she'd do it.

When the time came for them to change into their robes, the girls and boys went their separate ways. Conversation with Narcissa was thankfully sparse and did not consist of the surprising incident that happened not only an hour ago. They spoke little and only of trivial things such as what Hermione should expect when she reached Hogwarts. All that was explained Hermione already knew, but she would confess to being curious each time Slytherin was mentioned. It seemed that as with all Pure Blooded families, that Penthesilea was also assumed to be sorted into Slytherin House.

Oh, were they in for a disappointing shock!

But still, Hermione didn't know where she stood with Narcissa. Sometimes, Hermione believed that under different circumstances, they could have been friends and that maybe, if fate would allow it, they could be now. But there were also times where Narcissa would look at Hermione with a nasty glint in her eyes that demonstrated the wicked woman she would one day become.

In Hermione's experiences, people with an evil gleam in their eye that's directed towards you usually don't have your best interests at heart.

"We'll be very closely related," Narcissa mused aloud as they walked back to the compartment. "I will marry Lucius, making us sister-in-laws, and my sister has recently married Rabastan's older brother, which again would make us very closely related."

"Sister?" Hermione queried innocently, but through gritted teeth and clenched fists.

If Narcissa noticed, she didn't mention it. "Bellatrix Black. Or Lestrange now, I suppose."

They spoke no more before entering their compartment and meeting the boys.

When the train finally reached its destination, Hermione was relieved. Putting up with the constant formalities and guarded replies that filled the conversations around her was boring, and believe it or not dizzying. Their double meanings and evasive, but simple language was enough to give even Rowena Ravenclaw whiplash. For a Slytherin, one must always be on your guard and never be vulnerable. She missed Gryffindor already.

As Hermione went to collect her things, she noticed Rabastan had her luggage already nestled in his broad arms and shot her what she believed was supposed to be a charming smile. Remembering her manners she thanked him and followed him off of the train. Lucius insisted he assist her down the steps, in case she grew weak and collapsed onto the tracks. She wished to scold him for his worrying, but couldn't bring herself to when she saw his genuinely concerned eyes and gave into his simple though unreasonable request. After all, she wasn't an invalid.

She still didn't miss the glare she received from Narcissa.

They walked along the platform silently and Hermione was grateful she didn't have to carry her share of the burden as her arms were becoming lead in Lucius' and her legs started to feel wobbly at the knees. She only prayed that the blonde beside her didn't notice or she knew a panic fit would arise in him, so she continued to push herself. When they finally reached the carriages, she breathed a sigh of relief and felt herself relax. Thankful that Lucius would be able to boost her up into the carriage, Hermione stepped forward, eager to sit down, but something she saw made her stop in her tracks.

In front of the carriage were two large giant horse-hybrids. They were larger than the average horse, but then again, horses didn't have bat wings, skeletal bodies or reptilian facial features either. It had fangs that were barely contained in its mouth, giving a vicious feel to the creature. Its long, sturdy tail that looked like it could snap you in half with merely a flick, if you got in the way of it. And it had long, greyish hair that Hermione knew the Elder Wand was made of. The creature spoke of pure power that could overwhelm even the most able-bodied of men. But in its eyes, Hermione saw a sadness that she didn't know was possible to possess.

It was a Thestral.

She had never seen one before now. Sure she had ridden one before but she had never laid eyes on one.

Suddenly every death that she'd ever witnessed flashed through her eyes, and pain squeezed her chest in an almost agonizing grip. She almost stopped breathing as a sudden realization hit her. After seeing so much death, understanding it to the point of acceptance, it was barely even a shock to her anymore. Perhaps, some deep, dark part of her heart welcomed it.

"Silea," Lucius prompted, gesturing to the carriage steps.

She gave a shaky nod before accepting his help getting into the carriage. Whether from shock of the Thestral or her weakness she wasn't sure, her legs gave out on her on the highest step and she gave a small squeak of surprise.

She waited for impact against the hard floor, but instead found herself with an arm wrapped securely around her torso, pulling her the rest of the way up. She breathed a sigh of relief as her feet were firmly placed on the floor and turned to her rescuer. She wasn't sure whether she was surprised or not when she saw it was Snape. They locked eyes and Hermione couldn't help but cringe at the familiar blackness within them.

She was suddenly assaulted with the reminder of the Professor Snape she knew and despised. He was cruel, vindictive, overly harsh and to be perfectly blunt, an outright bastard. But she suddenly saw him in a different light. The boy before her was no different from her. He was young and smart, albeit influenced with bad choices, and a rather skilled practitioner in potions and Dark Arts. She saw a boy who would grow up unsure of what he believed in, but would die saving the lives of those considered inferior to him by his friends.

She saw a brave man who if given the chance could become so much more than a Death Eater.

"Thank you," she said softly, subtly showing gratitude for all his sacrifices.

His eyes widened slightly, whether he was able to sense her deeper meaning or if manners were completely dead she wasn't sure, but he gave a nod of acknowledgment before turning a deaf ear to her brother's incessant appreciation.

After her brother was worn and tired of the subject of Snape's rescue, he turned to his sister and berated her for not telling him she was feeling weak. He insisted that the moment they arrived at the castle they would head to the Hospital Wing, despite her constant assurances that she was perfectly well, and her pleas of wanting to see Hogwarts fell on deaf ears.

It was Narcissa who came to her defense and recommended that Hermione see the Headmaster first before anything else, then go to the start of year feast and then, depending on Hermione's health, she would be personally escorted by Narcissa to the Hospital Wing.

Lucius grumbled something in defeat that sounded suspiciously like 'woe to man' before slapping Regulus across the head because he had deemed him 'whipped'.

The rest of the ride continued on in a similar fashion, the boys were slightly less formal with each other but they always held each other at arms lengths away from each other. Even Snape cracked a few smiles and Hermione wondered if Snape had somehow tortured someone without her noticing. When seeing no one, she shrugged and settled back in her seat. Maybe even Snape can smile without the need for malicious entertainment.

When Hogwarts came into sight, Hermione couldn't contain her smile of childish glee. She felt like she was coming home for the first time in years; which, technically, was true. She was seventeen when Snape took over as Headmaster and twenty one when she came back to this time. She thanked Merlin for the aging potion she took, otherwise that would have been hard to explain. But looking at this castle brought back every memory she had of the place, happy and sad alike. But due to the deaths of the many people involved, all of her happy memories held a twinge of pain anyway.

"Silea? Are you alight?" Lucius asked.

Hermione looked at him with a confused expression, wondering what would possess him to ask such a question, until he wiped tears from her face with his fingers.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, brushing his hand away and removing the tears herself. "It's a dream come true. I'm finally at Hogwarts!" she improvised.

The look of delightful glee that filled his face was bright enough to light up the dark pathway leading towards the castle and she suddenly didn't feel so guilty in lying to him.

She noticed the same look from Narcissa again and also saw Snape giving her a new look. Although Snape was hard to read and usually stoic, she could tell he was making a very strong opinion of her, she just didn't know if it would work in her favor or not.

She said farewell to the boys and Narcissa, and before she knew it, she was being escorted to the Headmasters office, Lucius leading her through the hallways. As they walked in silence, Hermione was mentally criticizing all the things that were different from then and now, which if she wanted to be entirely truthful, nothing was. It was still rural and simple, yet majestic in its own right.

She was greeted with many curious looks by the few students that were away from the Great Hall entrance, portraits started whispering to each other behind beautifully decorated fans and even a few ghosts paused in their strolls to ponder her presence. She even passed by Nearly Headless Nick who bowed slightly to her and offered his most jovial greetings, much to Hermione's pleasant surprise but to Lucius' chagrin. Upon reaching a familiar golden statue, Lucius fumbled around in his pocket for a moment before procuring a small piece of parchment saying _Sugar__ Quills_. He gave her a bizarre look before vocalizing the password and helping his sister ascend the stairs.

Hermione forced herself to breathe deeply, trying not to panic. Her heart was beating wildly and her breathing seemed labored. Dear Merlin! What was she thinking? She couldn't do this! She couldn't go in there and lie to her old Headmaster! She couldn't even face him! But she knew that if she collapsed and told him everything; her history and future plans, that he'd find a way to send her back with the click of his fingers. She couldn't risk that, especially since she only had one shot.

She quickly put a lid on her emotions and slid Penthesilea's mask over her face, ready to face one of the first steps of her self-created destiny.

Hermione entered the Headmasters office with her head held high and her face stoic. She reminded herself that she had to do this, it was for her friends. Her mission was her new life and she could not fail. Her eyes quickly danced around the room looking for any changes in décor, and while she found nothing overly obvious, there were small, insignificant details that were not worth her time pondering over.

"Headmaster," Lucius' voice greeted, unintentionally interrupting his sister's observations. "This is my sister, Penthesilea. We came right here just as you asked," he concluded, his voice polite and civil, but Hermione couldn't detect the usual respect one held in their tone when speaking to the powerful wizard. Then again, Lucius never really did display much respect towards anyone that he wasn't afraid of.

Don't look into his eyes, she reminded herself.

After taking a calming breath, she turned her gaze to the Headmaster who was peering at her curiously from over his half-moon spectacles. His eyes locked with hers and Hermione instantly averted her artificial grey orbs to look towards her brother. She prayed that in those few seconds he hadn't attempted any form of Legilimens, but highly doubted it, as she didn't feel any probing in her mind. However she couldn't be certain - he wasn't the most powerful wizard of the century and perhaps all time for nothing.

He looked the same as he did when she last saw him, twenty years hadn't changed him much at all; a remarkable feat considering he was currently living through a war, already been through one and would soon enter another, a more perilous and definite one. He still wore his antique, velvet robes that seemed beyond peculiar on his frame, but then again he was always slightly odd to all whom had the honor of meeting him. Glancing from the corner of her eyes, Hermione spied a familiar, yet not as brightly lit, twinkle in her Headmaster's eyes.

They were invited to sit and Hermione did so gingerly, allowing Lucius to lower her into the seat and making sure she was stable, never releasing her hand before sitting down himself - something the Headmaster didn't miss. After an offer and decline of some Lemon Drops, the bearded man spoke.

"Mr. Malfoy," his voice filled the room, "I believe you will be looked for at the feast. I'm sure you have missed your friends from the long summer absence. I will escort Miss Malfoy to the Great Hall once we are finished," Dumbledore offered, dismissing her fake brother.

Dear Merlin… that was the first time she'd admitted, albeit mentally, that the man in front of her really was Dumbledore; and a very alive one at that.

Breathe…b_reath_. She kept reminding herself.

Lucius opened his mouth to retort but seemed to remember whom he was speaking to and lowered the forcefulness of his voice. "I met with them all on the Hogwarts Express, Headmaster. I can see them all later," Lucius assured him, shooting her a concerned glance as he continued to hold her hand tightly; even more so at the mention that he should leave.

The Headmaster smiled not unkindly. "I'm sure she will want to know where she is to sit after her sorting," he tried.

Lucius' chest puffed up considerably like a rooster, and looked at Penthesilea adoringly. "She will be the Princess of Slytherin."

Hermione could barely contain her eye roll. _Not on my watch_, she thought.

The two men seemed ready to start a low key argument before Hermione intervened.

"Lucius," she said, noticing his flinch but not commenting. "Narcissa will probably wish to see you soon, don't hold back just because of me."

He opened his mouth about to violently retort to her subtle mention of being a burden, but her small smile snapped his mouth shut and with a farewell and a kiss to her forehead he was gone.

The two remaining in the room sat in silence for a while, both waiting for the other to speak. Hermione fiddled with the hem of her robes, anxiously waiting for Dumbledore to say something. When it became obvious that his new student would not initiate a conversation, Dumbledore did so. Well, he attempted to.

"Miss Malfoy-"

"Silea," Hermione automatically corrected. The Headmaster looked surprised and cocked his head to the side. "My name is Silea."

The Headmaster smiled, the twinkle in his eyes growing. "I would have thought it was Penthesilea."

Hermione scoffed slightly. "A name I don't like. It's Silea."

Truth was, Hermione liked the name Penthesilea very much, hence one of the reasons she chose it. But Luna seemed to have a sense of humor and according to everyone's memories she would level a death glare at any who said it. So she had to go along with the act.

"Well, Miss Silea, I would like to talk to you about your attendance at Hogwarts. Because your health is so unpredictable, we have given you your own quarters, within reasonable walking distance from the Hospital Wing - should you ever need it. You will, of course, be able to stay in your common room, but the quarters are where your parents would prefer you to stay. Your classes were chosen by your parents; Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration and Divination."

"I'm not doing Divination," Hermione blurted out before her mind could stop herself.

Uh-oh, what if Luna's humor went too far and she made it so that Penthesilea loves Divination? Dear Merlin, what if she even made her a seer! Oh, she'd murder her.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but didn't show any signs of shock. "I beg your pardon?"

Hermione weighed it mentally for a second, thinking back to her third year as a clear image of the fraud Professor Trelawney appeared in her mind and she inwardly shivered.

"I will do anything but Divination."

The twinkle in his eyes grew even more, almost blinding, but her indirect eye contact was making it difficult to discern its origins or if it really even was getting brighter.

"Your parents were reluctant for you to have five classes, they only wanted you to have four - would you be willing to drop Divination completely?"

Unsatisfied, Hermione argued with Dumbledore for many minutes, babbling on about how she came to Hogwarts to learn, and dropping subjects instead of replacing them was _not _going to teach her anything but cowardice. She swore that the more she spoke, the more excited Dumbledore seemingly became, but skillfully hid it as he insisted the she would learn something in Divination; which off course set Hermione into a rant about how the class was useless and a load of poppycock. In the end, Hermione conceded defeat on the terms that if she did not like the class after one (Which Dumbledore bumped up to _three _- manipulative old man) weeks she could change her subject.

Her class schedule was given to her and she was finally satisfied. After voicing this fact, Dumbledore announced their departure to the Great Hall, grabbing the Sorting Hat on their way out. Hermione had barely made it down the spiral steps when her legs gave out and collapsed on her, but Dumbledore's quick reflexes had her levitating down to the bottom of the staircase gently with wandless and wordless magic. She looked at her old/new Headmaster in awe, and couldn't help but notice the slight differences, but she had no time to compare them as he pulled her up gently from the floor and held his arm out to escort her.

"Let's hope not to repeat that, My Lady," he said in amusement, surprising Hermione with the teasing in his tone.

She smiled and nodded, accepting his arm and they walked silently into the Great Hall. Their entrance was barely noticed as the first years had gathered attention from their new amused upper classmates, with some even wondering if they looked that stunned by the Great Hall's majestic beauty when they themselves were first years.

Dumbledore worked his way through the crowd and stopped at the end of the first year's line, telling Hermione that she was to be sorted with them. She nodded in agreement before he went up to his pedestal and demanded the attention of the students. As every other year, she listened to the Headmaster intently.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, stretching his hands wide with a beaming smile on his face, "welcome! To those returning, welcome back! Let the sorting begin!"

As every year before, the tear in the Sorting Hat formed into a mouth and it began to sing, bewildering the first years even more, much to the amusement of the rest of the staff and students. Hermione briefly wondered if perhaps during the school year, while having no apparent purpose, if the hat spent it's time leisurely trying to think up a song for the next year. But then again, there were some pretty useful predictions made in previous years; a few of which even helped the Golden Trio.

_Don't be silly and think I can't see your doubt,_

_I see quite clearly the traitor in your heart. _

_You stray from fate and take no true route,_

_But rest assured you'll play your part. _

Hermione's eyes widened, swearing that during that verse the Sorting Hat had been speaking of her. Her heart thumped in her chest when its folds acting as eyes seemed to pierce into her own with an all knowing stare.

_You know where you should be,_

_And you know what you shall see,_

_Yet here you are, you sticky bee._

_Fear not! What you'll be - rests with me._

Hermione felt herself start to asphyxiate. Dear Merlin, it _was _talking about her. She was not oblivious to the double meanings, but a quick glance around the room informed her that everyone else was none the wiser. But her heart still pounded as one thought kept running through her head. _Dumbledore's not stupid_.

_Step on up and take a seat!_

_I'll tell you where you'll go,_

_I'm sure your heart just skipped a beat!_

_Don't fret - they'll help you grow!_

Hermione couldn't see any innuendoes in that verse and her heart notably relaxed but she kept her ears open wary of what it might say next.

_My dear master Gryffindor may see you fit, _

_If you have a courageous fire alit._

_Your stubborn but brave, that's sure to say,_

_If that's you, I know we're you'll stay. _

_If you are my dear friend a Hufflepuff,_

_You're patient and loyal and by no means unkind._

_You are no poorer than the others, _

_And I'm sure you'll love your new brothers. _

_Ravenclaws are wise and Witty, _

_Loving books is a pleasure, not a pity. _

_If learning fast and learning much is your must, _

_I'd say you have a Ravenclaw's touch. _

_If your Slytherin side is your dominate side,_

_I'm sure you've got a cunning pride. _

_These sly fellows will go above and beyond,_

_Think like them, then, you, they'll be fond. _

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
>And don't get in a flap!<br>You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
>for I'm a Thinking Cap! <em>

Cheers broke out in the Hall and Hermione was sure that if it could, the Sorting Hat would be bowing at the standing ovation. Professor McGonagall stood up, and just like Hermione's first real year called out the names on her list.

As the line moved forward, her eyes caught Lucius and his friend. She noticed that there were a few others she did not recognise, but she knew she probably wouldn't get to meet them if her plan went smoothly. She saw, with a pang of guilt, that they had saved a spot for her, in between Lucius and Narcissa; although Narcissa looked seemed remarkably unhappy with the distance she sat from her betrothed. The Gryffindor looked away and didn't bother looking back at the Slytherins, instead, opting to look at her true table.

The Gryffindors were watching the sorting intently, cheering loudly and welcoming with each newcomer as well as politely clapping for the additions to the surrounding houses (Except Slytherin). She caught the eyes of the Marauders, and was astounded to see they were looking at her in anticipation. Even Peter was jumping in his seat trying to make his smaller frame noticeable, causing her lips to tilt upwards the smallest bit, despite herself. Sirius was grinning charmingly at her in a way that would make all girls swoon and she couldn't refrain from laughing a little. And Remus was waving, but it seemed that he only did so, on account of James gripping the werewolf's arm and failing it around, thus forcing it to flap around like a fish out of water. But James' face of delight and his excited expression seemed to make Remus' annoyance less prominent.

"Malfoy, Penthesilea," Professor McGonagall called.

She saw the Marauders faces drop significantly, and their shoulders sag as disbelief entered their features, even hurt and betrayal forming in their once trusting eyes. She looked away, facing the Sorting Hat, and gathering her Gryffindor courage, walked up to the stool. The Great Hall had gone deafly quiet and Hermione swallowed at the thickness in the air. It was suddenly very hard to breath.

She sat on the stool elegantly, refusing to look weak in front of so many people, strangers and even a few Death Eaters in-training. Professor McGonagall gave Hermione a tight lipped smile, and placed the Hat on her head. Instantly, a familiar voice entered her mind.

_Ahhh, it's been awhile Miss Granger. I must confess it is very unusual for one to have a sorting _twice _in their lifetime; you're very lucky indeed._

Hermione scoffed, luck had nothing to do with it. It was desperation.

The Hat seemed to laugh at her thoughts. _Yes, your reasoning is even queerer. Changing history? That is very, very illegal. A very bold move indeed, my master Gryffindor would be proud to have you in his house again, my dear. Your decision?_

"I will forever be a Gryffindor at heart," she whispered almost inaudibly.

_That is no secret to me, my dear. You forget I can see everything in your mind. I know everything about you and your history. Very well, I hope for all our sakes, you succeed. If you should ever need anything, you may come to me. I will do what I can. _

The hat's declaration, "Gryffindor!" sounded into the room.

Unlike the others, Hermione did not receive cheers or welcoming handshakes, but was instead greeted with stunned silence and awkward glances. She couldn't blame them; a _Malfoy_, in Gryffindor? Unspeakable! As McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat from her head, Hermione noticed the surprise in the woman's eyes and that they had lost their hardness from before, to be replaced by a softened expression.

Despite this, the newly appointed Gryffindor held her head up, and walked with her wobbly knees to her table and sat next to a girl, roughly her age and smiled at her. Aware of the eyes still trained on her and ears listening in unashamedly, she held out her hand and spoke for the entire Hall to hear.

"I'm Silea. It's nice to meet you."

The girl looked astounded, absolutely in shock. She seemed to snap out of it quickly when she noticed her blatant staring.

"Alice," she replied shakily, accepting Hermione's cool hand.

"May I sit?" the Time Traveller asked.

Looking even more shocked that a Pureblood Malfoy had asked something polite and not at all begrudgingly seemed to make the girl go numb.

"You may."

Hermione sat down with a smile to the surrounding girls, all of which had similar expressions of astonishment, although it didn't hide some of their prejudiced disgust.

Ignoring, or perhaps oblivious to the rooms newfound tension, Dumbledore stood up with his usual cheer, and ever more so twinkling eyes to announced: "There is a time for speech-making, and this is not it. Tuck in!"


	5. I Don't Want to Be a Death Eater

During the feast, four boys found their attentions drawn to Hogwarts' newest 7th year student. She was a Gryffindor, beautiful, witty and seemed very confident in herself. On the Hogwarts train, the boys found her to be a very nice girl.

A very deceitful, malicious, conniving Malfoy she was revealed to be during the Sorting Ceremony.

Sirius Orion Black and James Harold* Potter could not contain their disgust of the girl. She was a Malfoy; a Pureblood bigot who treated Muggles, Muggleborns and Halfbloods alike as if they were yesterday's garbage; a Malfoy who had the audacity and disrespect to enter the courageous house of Gryffindor and besmirch its good name_. "Prongs, don't say besmirch - you sound like my Mother," Sirius scolded._

Godric Gryffindor was turning in his grave for sure.

Remus John Lupin and Peter Parr* Pettigrew on the other hand, seemed unsure of what to make of the girl. Unlike their fellow Marauders, they were logical enough to understand that if the Sorting Hat put her in Gryffindor, she must be a Gryffindor. But the other two would not listen to them. In fact, the Pureblood best friends' conclusions just seemed to be getting more and more ridiculous. They believed that it was an elaborate Slytherin scheme to tarnish them. Or perhaps act as a spy.

They tried to defend their case by accusing that she claimed to be a Muggleborn named 'Celia' and that she'd had trouble convincing her parents to attend magical school. They said she betrayed their hospitality and kindness by lying about who she was and making claims that were really the furthest thing from the truth. _"A Pureblooded Muggleborn? Don't make me laugh!" James mocked._ Remus, however, pointed out that she never really did confirm nor deny her blood status and that they had assumed the rest.

"What about her name then?" spat Sirius. "Her name is Penthesilea. Not Celia."

"I think we misunderstood her at that point," Remus sighed, exasperated with one of his best friend's antics. "Silea is a nickname for Penthesilea; S-I-L-E-A, not C-E-L-I-A."

"Besides," Peter interjected rather timidly, "She was nice. She gave us no reason to think she had nasty intentions."

Sirius and James pouted, neither willing to accept that their rat Animagus friend had a valid point. It was simply bad blood, _"Or should I say Pureblood?" Sirius remarked dryly_, that made them so resentful toward the new girl, something Remus didn't believe they'd ever admit to.

Soon though, all thoughts of the Malfoy girl were ignored; although not forgotten, as they continued onto the brighter topic of summer. Because of their train compartment guest, they had had no time to really catch up about their holidays. Although they spent some of it together, it seemed that this past summer they'd all had things to do with their respective families.

James had attended many, _many _social gatherings and functions with his parents. He was, after all, soon to be of age and to inherit the family estate and name. Although the Potters were not prejudiced and self-worthy, they did believe that they had a reputation to uphold. James had to learn how to behave as the future Lord Potter.

Remus' mother and father had dragged him to France to visit some of his family; family that didn't exactly like him because of his 'Furry-little-problem'. He stayed for most of the summer until one of his cousins had called him an abomination, causing him to flee to James', much to his parents chagrin.

Peter spent quite a while with his nerve shaken mother, who seemed rarely able to look after herself without having jitters or fretful monologues. After her husband had died ten years ago in a home potion explosion, she had become very paranoid about freak accidents and unforeseen potential mishaps. Her paranoia often kept the boys from visiting Peter's home. They tried, but after she attempted to buckle and chain them into their chairs at dinner to prevent them from falling off, they drew the line and swore to never again torture themselves with her presence. Peter was unfortunately left to look after his slightly deranged mother for the majority of the holidays on his own.

Sirius was another matter altogether. As always, he was driving his family nuts, deliberately pestering them and simply being a menace. He quite liked desecrating his younger brother's room as well as planting false evidence that his brother was also a 'Muggle-Lover'. But his favorite pastime was to give his Mother, Walburga, heart attacks and nervous breakdowns, even flaunting around a sign at one point that said, 'Save a Muggleborn, kill a Pureblood'. It was still a wonder how he'd survived that particular incident, but it probably explained why he also spent the remainder of the holidays with James.

While talking to Peter about a particularly fascinating landmark in France, a voice being cleared interrupted Remus.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin," Professor Dumbledore greeted. "I do hope you have enjoyed your Yorkshire Pudding."

"Yes Professor," Remus answered, wondering what he wanted.

"Good, as a 7th year Prefect, I was hoping you would show Miss Malfoy to her quarters?" he requested, although Remus believed that no one could really say no to Dumbledore and _not _feel guilty. "I understand that the Head girl Miss Evans and Head boy Mr. Potter should be escorting the 1st years to their dorms," the man continued pointedly, causing James' head to snap up in realization before hurrying off with a rushed goodbye.

Remus nodded his acquiesce, ignoring Sirius' mutters of being abandoned for a bigot, and directed a wary smile toward the girl. He gave her a thorough glance over and was surprised with what he saw. Being too busy reading a fascinating book on the train to Hogwarts, Remus hadn't really bothered to speak nor look at her. Penthesilea Malfoy held herself tall and proud as would any other Malfoy, but it seemed put-on and not at all natural. She had thick, black, wavy hair that reached down her back and startling grey eyes that seemed to shine from within. Her looks were uncanny to the trademark appearances of the Black family, and were very unbefitting of a Malfoy. She had a sweet looking heart shaped face, and her expression displayed the upmost innocence. Remus wasn't sure if it was his werewolf instincts, or if she exuded a vibe, but he knew that she was anything but innocent. That's when he noticed that her eyes were misleading. They were a bright grey, almost silver, and seemed to be hiding a tortured soul beneath them. Remus recoiled slightly when he realized that she looked exactly as he did the day after a full moon.

"Hello again, Renault was it?" her voice broke his musings.

"Ah, no, Remus actually," he corrected, wiping his face with a napkin and standing, leaving his friends and gesturing for Penthesilea to follow him. "I'll lead you to the Gryffindor dormitories," he told her, after exiting the Great Hall.

She smiled politely and shuffled her feet slightly. "Um, actually, I was to go to the Hospital Wing first and see Madam Pomfrey and then I was to go to my own exclusive quarters."

Remus almost felt like hitting himself across the head. She was definitely a bigot if she refused to stay in the Gryffindor dormitories and had to have _daddy dearest _arrange a private quarter for her. Suddenly, all respect or tolerance he had for the girl disappeared, but he held his tongue, knowing that a single word from this girl to the wrong, or perhaps right person, could ruin him quicker than a Boggart's transformation.

The werewolf did absolutely nothing to change the silence between them as they walked toward the Hospital Wing. From the corner of his eyes he saw her open her mouth a few times to say something, only to clamp it shut with a resigned look on her face. They reached their designation without issue and Remus entered, calling out for Madam Pomfrey in a non-alarming manner.

"What's this?" a voice called from within the office. "Someone in need of me before the Welcoming Feast is officially over? What have those boys done now?!" the woman huffed, stepping out of the office and glaring slightly at the two students. "Which one of you?"

Malfoy raised her hand "That would be me. I'm Penthesilea Malfoy. I believe you've been expecting me?"

Remus was stumped when Madam Pomfrey's face softened considerably, almost into a thin, tight-lipped smile.

"Ah, yes, of course. I just want to do a check-up on you then you're free to go."

Remus watched subtly as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand around the new girl and asked her questions. They even debated over someone named Donovan, whom Pomfrey was obviously disproving of, but Penthesilea defended the man; more out of habit it seemed, than conviction. During all this, Remus was quick to realize that the newest Gryffindor was a very sickly girl, and watched as she violently snapped at a remark Pomfrey made about her considering staying at home and continuing her education there.

"It would be best for your health dearest," Pomfrey argued.

"I don't care what's good for my physical health! I care more about my sanity than anything else! Being cooped up in a mansion surrounded by nothing but house elves and poorly recycled air is not doing anything for me! Being around people my own age, getting an education and overall not being suffocated is going to benefit me much more!"

_She definitely had some Gryffindor spirit._

They ended the argument with that, but anyone could see by the expression on Pomfrey's face that the argument was far from over. Female Malfoy was dismissed, and the two Gryffindors left together.

"Do you know where your quarters are?" Remus asked.

"Professor told me before I saw you to 'look for the Purple Fairy'. I hope that means something to you."

He nodded in understanding, surprised that the portrait containing her room was barely a minute walked away.

Remus concluded that she must be very sick if she had to stay near the Hospital Wing, and he suddenly felt guilty for assuming that she had the private quarters arranged for selfish purposes. He shook his head. Each time he came to a conclusion about her, she did something to contradict it. He felt his care deflate and decided that he simply wouldn't bother. It would be less hassle.

From a distance, they could see that below the desired portrait was a large brown trunk, which Remus instantly recognized as the one Penthesilea had on the train.

She gave the werewolf a weak smile. "Lucius must have dropped it off."

Remus didn't need to know that her brother probably abandoned it there and left so he wouldn't have to confront his 'House' and possibly 'Blood Traitor' sister.

When they reached the portrait, a childish looking Fairy dressed in a glittering purple tutu matched with violet hair and eyes greeted them with an obnoxiously sweet voice.

"And you might be?"

"Penthesilea Malfoy. But please, call me Silea."

"Middle name?"

The time traveler looked slightly confused. "Neptune."

The Fairy giggled gleefully, clapping her hands in delight.

"You're my new occupant!"

Remus raised a delicate eyebrow. _And the middle name was what gave this away but not the first or last_? Confusing portraits.

"You get to pick a password! What will it be?"

The black-haired-Malfoy seemed taken aback with the sudden question, and looked around her as if an answer would pop out of thin air. She chewed on her lip for a moment as her eyes seemed to visibly scan her brain for a suitable password.

"_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_," she said softly.

The portrait and wolf looked at her with a raised brow but said nothing as the frame swung open. Hermione reached down to grab her trunk and attempt to lift it up and carry it inside, but it proved too heavy and she sighed in frustration, mentally cursing all the concealing and physical charms she had to wear simply to keep her mission afloat. Before she could cast a levitation spell however, Remus leaned forward and picked it up for her, wordlessly carrying it through the door.

Grateful, Hermione followed him inside, only to discover the perfect room for her. It was of crème and chocolate décor and very simply designed. There was a large brown canopy bed with matching bedside table, vanity, dresser, wardrobe and desk, as well as a set of ivory armchairs and a sofa that she believed looked very inviting. Grateful at the non-splendor of the room, Hermione lowered her exhausted body onto one of her brand new armchairs, spotting a door across the room which appeared to be a bathroom.

"Where would you like it?" Remus asked, gesturing to the trunk he was holding.

Hermione was not lost on the fact that he did not want to be there.

"On my bed would be great," Hermione replied dismally.

Hermione felt sad that Remus refused to acknowledge her or try to be friends with her. He was polite, but she knew it was purely in his nature and that he didn't have the cruelty to dismiss someone merely because of dislike; Severus Snape was proof of that.

Hermione briefly wondered whatever became of the Remus in her time. Last she heard from them, Remus and Tonks had fled with their son to the Muggle World, hoping to find some sort of solace for Teddy in the madness of the world. But that was at least three years ago now and no one knew if they lived. She shook those thoughts away, the last thing she needed was to get confused with then and now. She had a mission and she needed to be purely focused on that.

Remus put the trunk on her bed carefully, seemingly wanting to scurry out of the room. Grief struck her chest and Hermione suddenly refused to be in such proximity of her old friend, mentor and idol and have him be unable to stand her presence.

"I'm sorry about what happened on the train. I didn't mean to mislead you, if that was what I did," she apologized softly. He halted in his tracks and gave her a curious expression, and Hermione couldn't control the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, a Malfoy apologizing. Get over it."

He looked even more surprised. "It's okay?" he said, making it sound more like a question.

Hermione gave a dry chuckle. "I think we should officially re-introduce ourselves," she stated, groaning as she stood from her armchair, her body protesting in annoyance. But she persevered and crossed the room to him, holding out her hand to shake.

"I'm Penthesilea Malfoy. But you can call me Silea."

Accepting the handshake, Remus nodded. "Remus Lupin, Remus will do."

They smiled at each other and an unspoken truce grew between them. Hermione knew then, that against all odds, if she worked at it, she could have an ally in her mission.

Before another word could be said, the Purple Fairy appeared in an empty frame in the room with a giggled greeting.

"Someone is here to see you, Silea. He's a cutie! Blonde hair, grey eyes! He's a keeper!" she said with a wink. "Shall I let him in?"

Knowing who it was and that she couldn't avoid him forever, Hermione agreed. Remembering Remus, she grasped his arm and dragged the protesting werewolf to her wardrobe, opened the doors, relieved and astounded when she managed to throw the man twice her size in.

"Please don't speak or do anything to announce your presence. I don't want to get into even more trouble."

Remus seemed to catch on to where her train of thought was going and nodded, allowing her to close him in the wardrobe. Just as it was however, the portrait entrance opened with a loud bang, startling the Fairy, to reveal a very, very disheveled Lucius, looking as if he were about to murder someone.

Hermione gulped, knowing this wouldn't end well.

Silence filled the air for a long moment; as cliché as it sounded, you could indeed cut the tension with a knife, a very blunt knife at that. Hermione steeled herself, preparing for whatever Lucius was about to dish out to her. She knew vaguely how Pureblood families worked in society, she'd heard enough from her schooling years. Ronald and '_him' _used to shed light on what they could; what should and would happen according to specific situations. She would probably be disowned, and would most certainly be considered an outcast. She wondered briefly if the Malfoys would blast her off the family's tapestry as the Blacks had done to Sirius.

Her wonderings were cut off as she saw Lucius approach her. His steps were slow but purposeful, as if trying to lengthen the suspense and increase anxiety. He stopped only one foot away from her, and Hermione could feel his hot breath on her face, his own, beet red with a visible vein on his forehead, looking about ready to pop.

"Gryffindor?" he spat, his temper probably making his ability to speak very limited.

"Yes, Gryffindor," Hermione replied simply, not caring for his attitude.

He growled and before Hermione knew it her brother had pushed her up against the wall with his hands wrapped around her throat. Her eyes widened in the upmost shock and she cried out in pain as her head connected violently with the wall. She gasped as she watched Lucius' usually silver eyes turn into a dark grey clouded with bloodlust.

Hermione suddenly realized in that moment that he could easily kill her.

Believing there to be no danger, she had discarded her wand on the bedside table when she and Remus had entered the room. She couldn't fight him off the Muggle way, because not only would a fully grown male overpower an untrained, terrified little girl with little difficulty, Hermione knew her new body would not be able to fight back with even half the capacity as her old one would have. The damn glamour potions and everything else Luna had shoved down her throat were causing her too much physical strain to be useful in a fight.

She clawed at his hands as his fingers blocked her windpipe and started choking. Her nails scratched at his skin but he barely seemed to notice it, even as she split his skin and blood started pooling out. Her vision started going fuzzy as his fingers constricted more around her neck, and Hermione fought fruitlessly to gain oxygen.

"Lu-lu-iu-s!" she tried, gasping and wheezing.

As if she had snapped her fingers, she fell to the floor with a loud bang and clutched her damaged neck, gently rubbing it, all the while breathing heavily, trying to make up for lost oxygen. She coughed and wheezed; at one point thinking she might vomit, but thankfully persevered, taking a full three minutes to compose herself before building up the courage to look up into her fake brother's face.

Eyes wide in shock, mouth hanging open; the previously homicidal man looked at her as if he couldn't believe what he had just done, before his gaze shifted to his hands, staring at them as if they were foreign objects that he had never encountered before. Hermione saw him tremble slightly, as if in shock as she gingerly got to her feet, clinging to the wall as tightly as she could to prevent her wobbly knees from collapsing out from underneath her. Once she was standing, she continued to watch him for a few moments, waiting for him to come to his senses. But instead, he remained in shock.

"Lucius," she tried, surprised that her voice was steady, although admittedly hoarse. He didn't seem to hear her, so she repeated his name over and over again until she was borderline yelling. "Lucius!"

His head snapped up from his still bleeding hands and looked into her eyes. She was somewhat relieved to find that his own were now back to their standard silver, instead of the rage filled dark grey they had been just moments before. They now held remorse, shock, fear, disgust and anger; none of which she was sure were directed at himself or her. Unable to hold his eyes though, her gaze fell to the floor, ashamed that even after what had just happened, that she still saw Lucius as '_him'_. Although, she should suppose that it would make their connection stronger.

"If you ever do that to me again," Hermione threatened, "I'll never acknowledge you again."

He cleared his throat loudly and turned away from her, looking very unlike the proud Malfoy Sr. she had once known him to be.

"Mother and father are most disappointed."

Silence reigned as Hermione wasn't sure what to say. Her fake parents loved their equally fake daughter; yes, no doubt. But she would never consider them her parents. Her parents were Muggle dentists; murdered for no other reason than for having Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her generation, for a daughter. And as she was an only child and always would be; Lucius would never be her brother.

Knowing that what she was about to say would probably set him off again, by that point, she really couldn't care. "So?"

Lucius' lips curled in anger but unlike last time held in his temper. "So?" he questioned mockingly.

"So," she confirmed.

His deep breathing briefly reminded Hermione of a panting horse after a long gallop. She wondered if he would hurt her again, but he instead turned his back to her and began rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly debating something in his head. She thought she saw him glance toward the closet Remus hid in, but doubted he knew someone hid there moments later, as he seemed to ignore it. Eventually sighing, his shoulders dropped in what could only be considered resignation.

"What's happened to you, Silea?" he asked brokenly, as he turned around to look at the girl whom he believed to be his sister. His eyes were still red, but this time it looked to be from sadness and withheld tears rather than disgust and rage. "You're so cold now. What happened to my sister? The one who called me 'brother', not Lucius? Have I done something wrong?" his voice cracked, tears that refused to fall visible in his eyes. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I've done everything you've ever asked. I can't think of what I've done wrong."

"I was sorted into Gryffindor and you think it's something you've done?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded solemnly and Hermione couldn't help but shake her head at the narrow mindedness of Purebloods.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Lucius looked up at her with something akin to shock. "I'm a Gryffindor because I was meant to be. It's my personality that made me a Gryffindor not my birthright or environment."

Lucius slowly approached her again, looking as if he didn't know what to do anymore, and grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards the door. Surprised by the abruptness of his actions, Hermione struggled against his grip, barely managing to yank herself out of his hold, succeeding only to land roughly onto the floor, giving a gasp of pain from the impact. Lucius jerked her back up onto her feet and again tried to drag her to the door.

"Just where do you think you're trying to take me?!" Hermione demanded, stomping her foot down to prevent herself from being dragged any further.

"Dumbledore's office," he stated plainly.

"Why are we going there?"

"He can put you into Slytherin," he announced proudly, a mad look in his eyes.

_Say what?!_

Resolve strong, Hermione kicked Lucius' shin and took advantage of his momentary shock by pushing away from him and jumping on her bed. The blonde Slytherin rushed to the bed, but every time he would reach for her, she'd only move out of his reach again. Growling, he grabbed his wand and threw a full body bind hex her way, but was surprised when she dodged it, and astounded when she jumped off the bed and landed on him, causing them to hit the floor with a thud and a grunt of pain. Dazed from the fall, Lucius didn't see his 'sister' rip his wand from his hand and point it at him, but when he finally did, silence polluted the air.

They stayed like that for several minutes. Hermione straddling his waist with his own wand pointed at his throat as they both held their breath, neither knowing what to say nor what to do.

"I'm staying in Gryffindor," Hermione told him with so much conviction Lucius was momentarily stunned.

Keeping the wand pointed at him, Hermione slowly eased herself off of him and stood gesturing he do the same. When they were both planted firmly on their feet, Hermione tossed his wand to him.

"Why?" he asked, hoping she'd give an excuse he could easily counter, so they could quickly remedy the mistake of her being in the worst house possible for a Pureblood.

The Gryffindor girl looked steadily at him and gave a small smile. It wasn't a nice smile. In fact, it could almost be called a conniving smirk. She stepped towards him until they were chest to chest and moved her lips to his ear to whisper with absolute certainty;

"Because I don't want to be a Death Eater."

A loud smacking sound filled the room as the two teenagers stood in shock of what happened. Hermione lifted her gaze to Lucius, holding her head defiantly, proudly showing her new busted lip and scratched cheek. She stared at him blankly and shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly.

"Batter out," she said, knowing he wouldn't understand the Muggle term. "Now get out."

She turned her back to him and discreetly collected her wand from the bedside table in case she needed it, listening for any sounds of any potential jinxes sent her way. She counted the seconds it would take for him to get to the door and was relieved when she heard the portrait door open.

Just before the Slytherin stormed out the door he paused and laughed dryly, almost with hysterical madness. "You have no idea what I've given up for you." With that said, he left the room.

Hermione let out a shaky breath when he was gone and collapsed to the floor, dry sobs escaping her body, her psyche having taken some heavy damage. She needed to reflect on everything that had happened. With the time travelling, meeting over a dozen dead people, her sudden physical incapability's and also taking a physical beating from someone who up until ten minutes ago she believe would never hurt her as long as she was his 'sister'; she was really surprised she was still functioning.

She breathed heavily and started shaking violently, beginning to convulse. She stopped breathing as she fought to calm herself down, and just as she thought she'd faint, she felt a warm and gentle hand fall on her shoulder, causing her head to snap up in fright, meeting the kind yet worried face of Remus, who seemed to have snuck out of the closet when Lucius left. He seemed to be in a daze, unsure of what had just happened, and seemed to be unable to comprehend it, but true to the Remus in her memory, the one standing in front of her pushed aside all confusion to deal with the current issue…her.

He hesitantly put his arms around her and made shushing sounds. "It's going to be okay."

For the first time in many years, Hermione flung herself into someone's arms and bawled her eyes out. His shock at her sudden intimacy washed away and he held her tighter as her fingers clutched his robes. Her body jerked violently from the sobs, and even though she knew her eyes would be bloodshot and watery, she continued to cry for what felt like hours as Remus wordlessly held her, rocking her gently and made soothing noises. She cried for the man whom held her now, as well as his wife and child who would live in a world of pain and hate. She cried for Sirius who was robbed of a majority of his lifetime and ripped from everyone he loved. She cried for her friends and their families that were dead or mourning. She cried for herself who was the last living of the Golden Trio, and she cried for having to resort to such measures by changing history just so everyone could be happy.

She felt Remus tug on her chin to bring her eyes up to his face. He looked deep into her eyes, as if peering into her soul and assured her;

"It'll be okay."

Hermione gave a genuine smile for what felt like the first time in years.

"I'll make it okay," she promised him, knowing he didn't and would never understand the double meaning.

They stayed in each other's arms for a few more minutes before Remus had to leave. He shuffled awkwardly, not sure what to say or do considering what had happened, so Hermione decided for him and hugged him goodbye. He seemed surprised but smiled anyway before leaving.

Hermione went to bed and smiled, knowing that if she did what she was meant to do, everything would indeed be okay and everything bad that had happened were simply drawbacks that could and would be overcome.

Despite the peaceful smile; nightmares, or perhaps they'd be better called memories, would plague her sleep that night.

*** James and Peter don't have any mentioned middle names so I've made them up.**

**- Harold: Heroic Leader**

**- Parr: Born in a barn**


	6. STOP IT NOW, GINNY!

_**1997**_

_In a dark room in an equally dark house, a young girl with chestnut hair was slumped over a desk, working her quill into an early retirement. _

_SNAP!_

_Slamming her hands down on the desk violently, Hermione groaned in frustration and pulled at her frizzy hair when the quill's tip broke in the middle of the sentence she had been writing. Knowing she was getting absolutely nowhere, she sighed loudly and reclined backward in her chair, thinking how she would have more progress walking through a brick wall. Being the bookworm, they relied on her for research purposes. It was her only job and she was failing miserably; she hated not being able to find what she was searching for. Taking a few deep, soothing breaths, she waited until her heart rate was back to normal before glancing down once more at the ancient books, pinned-maps, and notes in front of her and mentally shook her head. There was no way she'd be able to concentrate even if she could stay conscious for ten more minutes._

_Tidying her desk, she placed her research away and grabbed her coffee mug, before hauling her tired body out of the library. Knowing she wasn't at her best, she took the stairs cautiously one by one, eventually entering the kitchen, only to be surprised to find that she wasn't alone._

"_Ginny,__"__ she greeted with a small smile. _

_Ginny looked up from her tea and gave a welcoming smile in return. __"__Hello, Hermione.__"_

_They exchanged pleasantries, asking about each other's sleep (Or rather lack thereof), as Hermione made a cup of tea before settling down into companionable silence. _

"_You're leaving soon.__"__It wasn't a question. _

_Hermione wasn't surprised that she knew. She and the boys had been leaving quite frequently and irregularly for a while now, due to news of potential Horcrux whereabouts and Death Eater raids, making the youngest Weasley very perceptive of body language. The red head, however, was still denied participation in any Order missions, even though she had well passed the legal age, which left the poor girl alone often for long periods of time._

_Hermione nodded, answering Ginny__'__s earlier question. __"__Yeah, tomorrow morning, hopefully at first light. Harry, Ron, Draco and I think we__'ve__ found another Horcrux location. It__'__s not too far from here but it__'__s rather difficult to get to, we don__'__t expect to be back before the week is up.__"_

_Ginny nodded, looked down at the table and started drawing random patterns. This seemed to be an anxiety reliever for Ginny. She had taken to drawing circles on furniture or even in the air for no reason other than to distract herself from what was surrounding her. _

___"__I still don__'__t trust him, you know.__"_

_There was no need to ask who she was speaking of. _

"_I know, Ginny. You're not the only one. Ron and Harry are skeptical as well.__"_

_Ginny released a frustrated sigh and stood up. __"__Hermione, we have no reason to trust him - he has the Dark Mark! He was seen speaking to his cousins a week ago and you don__'__t find it the least bit suspicious?__"_

"_I spoke to Draco about it already. He told me that he felt homesick and wanted to see his family,__"__ Hermione defended. _

"_Oh, and he said this a month after he swore he wanted nothing more to do with the killers!__"__ Ginny spat viciously. _

"_Don__'__t talk about Draco that way! He__'__s done a lot for us.__"_

"_What has he done? Led us into traps, given us useless information, seducing you-__"_

"_STOP IT NOW, GINNY! You have no idea what you're talking about!__"__ Hermione screamed._

_Silence filled the air and the only thing that could be heard was the panting and labored breathing of the Gryffindor girls. They continued like this until finally;_

"_Hermione, he__'__s using you.__"_

_Again, silence. _

"_He loves me.__"_

"_He__'__s pretending,__"__ Ginny countered. _

"_I love him.__"_

"_You shouldn't.__"_

_But voicing the obvious was not going to convince Hermione that her boyfriend was bound to only end up more trouble than he was worth. Two months ago Hermione had brought Draco to Grimmauld Place and begged that he be let in the Order. Draco claimed he had changed, that he couldn't stand the onslaught anymore and he wanted out. That his beliefs in Muggleborns had changed due to his newfound love for Hermione and that he wanted to protect and fight for her. _

_Immediately chaos had ensured. The majority vocalized that he shouldn't be trusted, that he bore the Dark Mark and that no Death Eater could be redeemed. Snape had failed and lied to them for an almost two decade long ploy and Draco was sure to do the same. But surprisingly, it was Harry who spoke up on Draco's behalf, effectively stopping all further debate by saying one thing. _

"_Dumbledore once told me that __'__Help at Hogwarts is available to those who ask for it__'__. I__'__m sure he wished the order would run by the same motto.__"_

_So Draco was accepted, albeit reluctantly. _

_Ginny broke Hermione__'__s reminiscence with a heavy sigh. _

"_Don__'__t come crying to me when he gets someone killed.__"_

_Ginny had no idea how right she was. _

With a start, Hermione awoke, breathing heavily with sweat covering her body and sheets. She breathed jaggedly for a few moments before placing a hand to her chest to try and calm her erratic heartbeat. Her mind was running a thousand miles a minute as she fought violently to prevent the thoughts she knew would enter her mind.

She threw the sheets off in frustrated, hot and flustered with annoyance from her dream.

Annoyance…that's all it was. It most certainly _was not _guilt.

'_It's your fault_.' A nasty voice sung in her head, '_All yours - no one else's_._'_

Shaking her head violently, she stood up from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and splashed her face with water, Once, Twice, Three times before she thought her mind was in any semblance of its usual capacity. She breathed deeply through her nose, trying to dispel the sudden nausea in the pit of her stomach, and then wiped her face rather aggressively, before conjuring a glass of water from a strand of dental floss, and shakily bringing it to her lips, taking small sips, not entirely sure she could keep large quantities down.

'_You killed them__.'_

She gasped and jerked in surprise, accidentally squeezing the glass too hard, causing it to shatter from the pressure. Shocked at her strength, she yelped at the sharp, sudden pain in her palm, and examined it. As she suspected, there was a glass shard protruding from her hand. She winced at the sight; blood oozing slightly around it, but the shard itself prevented any real blood from flowing out of it. Barely thinking straight, Hermione tore it from her palm and gave a slight cry of pain. Sighing in frustration, she returned to her bed and grabbed her wand, muttering a spell and healing it, leaving only a small, risen white scar. Yet another for her seemingly endless collection, she mused, absently rubbing the invisible one that stole the sight from her right eye.

Satisfied, she made to stand and clean the blood droplets tracked from the bathroom, but collapsed to the floor before taking even one step. Damn it! She was still too weak to do many spells and not be physically useless. Honestly, she felt inept. A feeling she hadn't had for quite a while. She could cast spells rather well, and her mind was nothing to be laughed at… it was more her judgment of people that caused everyone problems. She really needed to get herself back into her previous shape. Although that was a long time coming; especially considering her new found weakness.

Growling in annoyance, knowing she was only thinking this way because her mind was still half asleep, (nothing good came from her when she was only in a semi aware state), she made her way to bed, got herself comfortable, and assured herself she'd clean the blood in the morning. A quick _Tergeo _should make the carpet good as new.

After tossing and turning for longer than she cared to, she knew she wouldn't get any more sleep that night, so she wretched the sheets off again and made her way to the small desk, and within minutes, she'd started planning…

Head slumped over the desk, knots in her back, eyes drooping and mind frazzled; Hermione had spent hours running her hands through her long black mane, looking down at what she had laid out in front of her.

Salazar's Slytherin's Locket

Helga Hufflepuff's Cup

Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem

Tom Riddle's Dairy

Gaunt Family Ring

Nagini (Not Made Yet)

Harry Potter (Not Made Yet)

Voldemort's Horcruxes; pieces of a torn and tormented soul, a monster that shouldn't have ever breathed his first breath. A Half Blood that had terrorized the lives of people close to her for decades, once an attractive, charismatic man with thriving ambitions, but a psychotic view of the wizarding world, that had once walked these very walls and managed to manipulate everyone in his path that were none the wiser to his misdeeds, e.g.one Professor Slughorn. Damn that man for revealing information about such Dark magic! About Horcruxes!

At least she didn't have to worry about Nagini or Harry at the moment, '_Since neither of them have even been born yet,' _Hermione thought with a twinge to her chest. Obtaining Ravenclaw's Diadem would be the easiest of all of them as it was certainly the most accessible currently. The Locket and the Diary were completely different stories. The locket would still be found and hidden by Regulus Black, but she wasn't sure if it would be destroyed before she needed it to be. After all, finding Mundugus Fletcher would prove to be rather tricky if he was anything like the filthy, sly man he would become. Her mission would be all for naught otherwise. As for the Diary… Hermione would have to do a bit more sucking up to her _brother _and _parents _to try and find it. She dreaded the very thought of being close to them, but it was necessary to find the Diary. Helga Hufflepuff's cup hadn't been found yet; all they knew was that it had been entrusted to a Death Eater in the inner circle. It wasn't Malfoy nor Snape, and who knows whether Voldemort had it in his close vicinity in this time, especially after learning that they'd been discovered and slowly destroyed one by one. The Ring was in the home of Riddle's deceased mother; a location she was relieved to know of.

The Diadem would be the first to go. She'd start tomorrow night when everyone was asleep. She regretted that she didn't have Harry's Invisibility Cloak or the infamous Marauders Map, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Looked like she'd be watching out for Filch's cat… was she even alive?

Her mapped out plans and a few thesis' of potential locations were put under a Glamour Charm to make them appear like blank parchment and then a Notice-Me-Not Charm was added so no one would really see it unless they knew what it truly was, or they _really _needed blank parchment. Something she doubted.

She groaned slightly as she felt the strength in her wrist vanish as though it was never there, and Hermione once again cursed her newly inept body. Frustrated tears formed in her eyes at the thought of being absolutely useless. She didn't merely need brains for this operation to succeed; she'd need a lot of physical and magical strength as well. But what she really needed was a less energy leeching method to keep up her act.

An idea abruptly occurring to her, she rushed to her bed and pulled out her trunk from underneath it, flinging open the lid.

'_I really should unpack,' _she thought absently, briefly overwhelmed with the amount of belongings in her trunk. It didn't even have an Undetectable Extension Charm! Throwing out things that she didn't need momentarily, she searched and searched for what she was looking for. After minutes of fruitless fiddling around and being poked by numerous quills she finally found what she was looking for.

The trunk of all the things Luna Lovegood had given her for her journey.

Hermione couldn't help but smile as she thought of her whacky yet unusually optimistic friend. Who even with everyone around her dying, managed to somehow cheer everyone up in that quirky way of hers. Shaking her head, she shuffled around, pulling out all the bottles and potions she could find while storing the documents on how to re-create the potions on her desk; she'd look at those later.

Lining up the vials, Hermione calculated exactly what Luna had intended Hermione to drink and for how long.

De-Aging potion: That may have been the main contributing factor to her sudden weakness. Taking years off of one's life usually did that. She ran a hand down her younger, more youthful feeling face and mentally concluded that this potion would continue to drain her for about three months.

Scar Hiding Potion: Normal scar potions hadn't worked for the scar on Hermione's horrifically blemished face, although she had tried many a times to cover the hideous scar, it always managed to persevere. This one however, was a special brand made by Luna herself. It actually physically healed the wound but only for a limited amount of time, a month Luna had said. And if her body was magically healing itself only for the wound to abruptly reappear, then it was no wonder her body was so exhausted.

Hair Dye: Didn't physically drain her at all and got rid of her mass of unruly curls, which was a bonus.

Eye Coloring: The longer she used it the less she'd notice it. At least that's what was supposed to happen. It would fade in a week or so before needing to be reapplied. It should take none or at most minimal strength from her.

So, Hermione concluded that the De-Aging potion and the Scar Hiding potion were the main cause of her troubles. That meant, in about three to four months, she'd be back to her full capacity or at the very least close to it - thank Merlin! But that didn't mean she could slack off of her training.

With a mental hug sent to the unborn Luna, Hermione yawned and prepared to get ready for bed, which was looking as inviting and tempting as only a bed could. Plus, the pillows and blankets looked much more comfortable than last night. Glancing around her room to see the sty she'd left, she groaned and went to unpack the Muggle way, bemoaning her deprivation of her bed.

Clothes in the closet, knickers and bras in her dresser, quills, texts and parchment on the desk, books on the shelves, and toiletries in bathroom, she finally crawled under her covers with an exhausted, yet satisfied smile and closed her eyes, ready for the oblivion that was sleep to overcome her. Shifting only slightly before feeling completely relaxed and content, she silently hoped for a dreamless and rejuvenating rest so she could wake up in the morning feeling her best for the day to come.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Her wand vibrated and beeped like an alarm clock, letting her know it was time to get up and face the dawning day.

Dear Merlin, no! She couldn't have stayed up all night, could she? There was no way her planning had taken that long! She groaned and felt like shunning the sun for the rest of her life.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

So help her Merlin if the thing making that beeping sound wasn't her wand she would have obliterated it!

Resigning to the fact she would have to get up to attend classes; a thought which she hadn't had for five years, she got out of bed and proceeded with her morning activities.

It was ten minutes to breakfast when she'd finished and Hermione felt slightly queasy with nerves, another feeling she hadn't had for a while. Dear Merlin she was acting like a teenager again! Although, physically she was… again.

Sighing, she left her room with brief greetings to her Fairy portrait and continued on her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. While wondering is Alice would let her sit with her again, a voice broke the silence surrounding her.

"They're marrying you folk off much younger these days."

Turning around, Hermione saw Sirius looking nonchalant. But from Hermione's experience of knowing the past (future?) him, she could see in his rigid posture that this encounter would be none too pleasant.

"You and Lucius Malfoy," he continued, openly mocking. "Unhappily married like all other Pureblood extremists."

"No you fool," Hermione corrected, wondering where in the hell his assumption came from. "Lucius is my brother."

Instead of deterring him as she had intended, his smirk grew even wider, creating an expression of maliciousness that she had never seen on Sirius before.

"Why should that change anything? Last I heard Pureblood families are well versed in incest."

For some unexplainable reason, Hermione felt offended with the accusation. She herself was no Pureblood, but for some reason his snide comment hit close to home. Instead of storming off like her mind told her too, she retaliated with a rather nasty retort. One she never would have said to him before.

"Maybe you should ask your parents; Merlin knows they know more about that than I do."

His face slacked slightly, as if he was unable to comprehend the audacity of the girl in front of him. His eyes were wide and he seemed slightly offended, but his eyes danced with slight mirth… not the kind of mirth she would usually associate with Sirius Black though. With a sudden laugh that sounded more like a bark his eyes glinted with ice.

"At least my parents were _second _cousins. Not _first _like yours. Brush up on your history, Malfoy."

With that said, Sirius pushed past her, skimming her shoulder on the way out.

Hermione stood in surprise at the revelation. Lucius' parents were much more inbred then she had originally assumed. Perhaps that was why Lucius was so screwed up in the future. He never really had a fair shot at being decent. Groaning in annoyance, Hermione continued her trek to the Great Hall, hoping that Alice Meixner would ignore the fact that the newest seventh year Gryffindor was of a Slytherin orientated family.

**A/N: I will admit, I'm surprised how many people are fans of my version Lucius. Even after he choked Hermione, everyone seemed to still hold him in a good light, and were even sad about it. So, before you get too upset with his absence, he is coming back into the story. Albeit probably not soon. **


	7. I Prefer Silea Actually

**A/N: I am well aware that this story is taking a while to get into it but I'm hoping I'm keeping you all interested. This is my first HP fic and I think I'm getting facts right. I would also like to add that this is a Hermione/Sirius fanfic not a Hermione/Remus fanfic.**

Breakfast was an awkward affair, believe it or not. Hermione learned that even though Alice Meixner was a lovely and polite girl, she struggled with her prejudices, and whether or not to be friends with the Would-Be-Not-Slytherin-Princess, which made everything a tad bit uncomfortable. Conversation was strained and limited wholly to Hogwarts topics; subjects, schedules, privileges and whatnot. Whenever a topic was finished a deafening silence hung around them, forcing the girls to make unintelligent sounds in order to fill the tense silence. Hermione also wasn't oblivious to the envious looks she shot towards a group of laughing girls not a meter away from them, who were intently ignoring Hermione, and therefore poor Alice. Hermione was surprised to recognize one of the girls.

Lily Potter…or Lily Evans as she was known here and now.

Her beauty was obvious, and she was just as striking as people described. Hermione was surprised that her eyes were noticeable at the distance she was at, but she could now truly say that anyone who had ever told Harry that he shared his mother's emerald orbs had been spot on. Her vibrant, red hair, more the shade of roses rather than the typical orange-red of the Weasley's, stood in stark contrast to the paleness of her skin, only serving to make her eyes and hair stand out even more, which was perhaps what made her so stunning at first sight.

Hermione knew however, that she wouldn't find a friend in Lily as easily as she had hoped, because every time the redhead's eyes fell on the newest Gryffindor, her lips would curl in the slightest hint of disgust.

_Great_, Hermione thought. _All I have to be is a Malfoy and everyone hates me_.

Suddenly, everyone began scurrying around and Hermione realized with a start that the bell had rung. Relieved that she could drown people out and focus on studying like she had back in her time, Hermione took one last bite of her breakfast and looked to were Alice had sat previously, unsurprised to see the girl had bolted first chance she got. She was now walking from the hall arm in arm with Lily Evans, who was yet again, throwing a look of contempt her way.

Hermione sat there for a few minutes, a feeling of sadness settling in her stomach.

_It's like fist year all over again. Except this time, there's no troll to nearly kill me. _

She hadn't felt this alone since those first few months of Hogwarts. Where she learned that just because she was over studious and out of place in the Muggle world, didn't make her less so in the wizarding world.

Resigning herself to the fact that she'd have to pretend she didn't know where she was going, she slowly stood and grabbed her bag before exiting the Great Hall, only to pause on her way out when she glanced over at the Slytherin table, surprised to see someone still occupying the almost deserted space.

Severus Snape was hunched over a book, scribbling madly, only pausing on occasion for his thoughts to catch up with his pace. Hermione was amazed to see that her old professor did such a thing. It was so - _herself_. Something she herself would be doing during O.W.L exams or even how she looked as she was bent over text books trying to make her _adventure _possible. He seemed oblivious that the bell had even rung and continued to write so fast Hermione doubted even her brain could keep up. Swallowing her nerves, she approached him against her better judgment. _He's dangerous here. He will have no qualms with hexing you; or worse. _

Even when she stood over him he seemed oblivious to the fact someone was in front of him. Swallowing, her throat suddenly dry, she spoke up, "Snape?" His head snapped up in shock, instinctively cradling his book to his chest and grasping his wand handle. "The bell has rung," she informed him.

He continued to look at her unblinkingly for a minute, and even though she began to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, Hermione refrained from fidgeting.

"I have free time," he replied, cautiously lowering his book and beginning to write in it again, ignoring her presence.

She peered down at the book again, observing more of the details. It was a simple advanced potions textbook that held absolutely no significance; that is, if you didn't already know what it really was. Hermione knew very well that on the first page, a note would be there stating, 'This book is the property of the Half-Blood Prince', a small textbook that contained hexes and curses and all sorts of other malevolent stuff. A book that had many dark spells in it that could make her die a slow, agonizing death with her barely even knowing he'd cast a charm.

Suddenly, feeling stupid and embarrassed by her irresponsibility, she turned around and walked off, not hearing the silent thank you the gloomy boy mumbled under his breath. If she had, she probably also would have heard the double meaning hidden in them.

But she didn't and continued to walk away.

She only made it two steps outside the Great Hall double doors however, when someone whistled to get her attention. Turning, she saw Remus, smiling shyly and unsurely. Curious, Hermione approached him.

"Remus?"

He was scratching the back of his neck and kicking the floor slightly.

"Are you… Are you… You know? Feeling better?" he asked hesitantly.

The reference to the night before made Hermione's stomach churl. She breathed deeply, trying to dispel thoughts of the nightmare and it's after affects, to focus on Remus' polite inquiry about how she handled her brother's violent reaction to the news of her being a Gryffindor.

"I'm okay," she finally answered, trying to force as much belief into her tone as possible.

She needn't have bothered because Remus didn't look even remotely convinced. In fact, he looked unsure whether he should ask his next question.

"Has he ever done that before?"

Hermione frowned, realizing she didn't know the answer. She believed Lucius would never hurt her no matter what, but after last night, she wasn't so sure; who knows if it had happened before.

"No," she settled on, but her reluctance to answer and her pause seemed to be a contradicting answer to him. Still, he nodded, pretending to believe.

"I'm here for you, if you need a shoulder again. Or for whatever other reason you need someone."

Hermione felt an emotion swell in her she hadn't felt in a long time, and suddenly, she didn't feel so alone anymore.

"Thank you," she responded warmly.

He smiled. "What do you have next?" he asked.

"Transfiguration."

"Me too, I'll take you."

With that said, the two new and quite unlikely friends walked side by side to their class, unaware that this classroom might not make it to second period in one piece.

Remus and Hermione, predictably, were tardy to Transfiguration class. Having left the Great Hall so late after breakfast, it was no real surprise. As they entered, that awkward moment occurred where everyone in the class stops to look at you, wondering what the interruption was. Hermione quickly realized it was a Slytherin/Gryffindor class, judging by the green robed students on one side of the classroom and the red ones on the other.

The Gryffindors looked at her with mixed expressions of disgust, curiosity and mostly, animosity. The Malfoy name must really have a strong and very negative history with her house. The Slytherins didn't seem to be sure what to do or say. They looked like they wanted to welcome her as an accepted pureblood of their house but due to certain events, seemed more willing to simply ignore her.

"Mr Lupin and Miss Malfoy, you are both twelve minutes late," Professor McGonagall stated in a mild scolding tone. "But since it is Miss Malfoy's first day of school, I shall overlook your tardiness."

Grateful, the time traveller smiled at her new (and old; no pun intended), professor, who was not going to change much in the years to come. Her hair was still salt-n-pepper in color, tied back in an immaculate bun that emphasized her stern facial structure. And although this Professor McGonagall was at least twenty years younger than the McGonagall she'd known, they both had the same amount of wrinkles on their face. Beyond pale as usual, her blue eyes seemed almost icy, but they would not frighten one who knew her strongly restricted humour. She regarded her students with a gentle expression when deserved, and with guilt inspiring narrowed eyes to those who caused trouble.

Remus sat down next to Sirius, who glared at her with a look full of disgust and annoyance. Lily and James sat behind them, who were, by the look of them, already dating. And Peter, the traitorous rat, was sitting in the back row with someone Hermione didn't recognize and personally didn't care to. Glancing around the room, she noticed with dread that Lucius was also in this class, the seat next to him occupied by Avery. Not that it really mattered; Lucius was no longer a part of her life; Silea's life that is.

Hermione refused to admit to herself that she was slightly miffed that Remus had abandoned her in a foreign environment as quickly as he picked her up, but she did feel guilt when she noticed that Sirius had elbowed him in the gut, giving him a dark look.

Starting to feel nervous that there were no available seats and that she would potentially make a fool of herself, she spotted a spare seat in the back row and took the seat gladly, mildly disappointed that it wasn't in the front row. When Professor McGonagall was satisfied that there would be no more disruptions, she continued with her lesson.

It was a theory lesson, about what Hermione believed to be easy transfiguration spells. Perhaps they were doing a recap from what they learned the previous year, but Hermione quickly lost interest with the topic, already having learned it years ago. She briefly fiddled with her quill and sighed slightly, already having gone over the topic in her head.

With nothing better to do, she glanced to her neighbor. It was a Slytherin boy, who was looking at her just as curiously as she was looking at him. His shaggy brown hair was gelled back so much that it looked like if he ran his fingers through it, they'd get stuck, and his eyes were a rather dull brown, but their bland appearance was compensated for by the bright excitement she found in them. His face was only slightly tanned and he had a very youthful countenance.

When he noticed her spying him, he gave a million dollar smile and held out his hand. "You must be Penthesilea Malfoy," he greeted with a genuinely bright smile. "You've caused quite a stir amongst the house of snakes. You have my respect," he concluded with a teasing bow and salute.

She smiled despite herself; glad that she might not have to go through Transfiguration alone. She shook his hand happily, recoiling only slightly at its coolness.

"I prefer Silea actually."

"Good, 'cause Penthesilea is a very long name to use every day," he confessed, wiping off imaginary sweat from his forehead as if a huge relief had been cast off of him.

"Now," Professor McGonagall's voice interrupted their introduction, "here is a simple question which you learned in fourth year. Can anyone tell me the incantation for vanishing objects?"

Automatically, Hermione's hand shot straight up to the ceiling, taking her new Slytherin friend by surprise by her abruptness. Professor McGonagall also seemed taken aback by her newest seventh year student. "Miss Malfoy?"

"It's _Evanesco_, Professor."

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Ten points to Gryffindor. Tell me Miss Malfoy; are you able to cast the spell?"

Hermione almost felt insulted. Hermione Jean Granger, unable to cast a spell three years below her year? Unheard of! But then again, Penthesilea Neptune Malfoy never had any real spell training and was taught by her parents and maybe some stray tutors. Reluctantly, Hermione realized she probably wasn't supposed to be as skilled as she really was. She _would probably _have to dumb herself down to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She snorted to herself silently, '_As if I could keep my hand from flying up'_. Instead of displaying her dismay, she nodded curtly.

"Come up then and vanish this goblet if you please."

_Crap! Inconspicuous much, Hermione?_

Resigned, she left her seat and began walking to the front of the classroom. Halfway down the aisle, giggles broke out throughout the room, but Hermione just shrugged it off, assuming gossip to be behind it. However, they grew louder and louder until they were almost uproarious. Suddenly curious, she turned her head slightly and saw everyone staring at her in mirth. James, Sirius and multiple students Hermione didn't know were laughing so hard, they were clutching their stomachs. Some, such as Remus, Lily and Alice looked on disapprovingly, but did nothing. It was then that a rather lewd comment was thrown her way, by none other than Sirius Black.

"Nice arse!"

Hermione's body froze, suddenly realizing that she could feel wind… in a usually covered part of her anatomy. Feeling her behind, Hermione was disheartened and mortified to feel flesh instead of her school robes. Quickly turning around to prevent Sirius and whoever the other boys that started whistling from staring, Hermione was greeted with snickers from the opposite side of the room. Professor McGonagall, whose lips were in a thin line, was too busy chiding other students to help her, telling them to have some decency.

Hermione's face flushed with embarrassment and anger. She could feel tears of rage and mortification building up within her, threatening to burst out. She felt vulnerable, and that usually didn't do well for the people around her, at least not in recent years. Her breathing became ragged and labored as she fought with her robe to try and cover her backside, but the hole was too large. She glanced at the Marauders and saw that Sirius had a particularly nasty gleam in his eyes that told the whole story.

_Revenge_.

Oh, she was going to hex that smirk right off his face!

She suddenly felt a hand clasp her wrist, and spin her around, causing her back to be hidden by them. The person behind her muttered something under their breath and Hermione was overjoyed by the sudden feeling of materiel forming over her previously exposed area. Looking up at her rescuer, she saw her neighbor who looked anything but impressed, glaring at the Marauders.

"Seriously? Cloth Dissolving Glue? What are you, five?" he sneered.

Sirius stood up and dramatically held a hand to his chest. "_Toi _accuse _moi_? Whatever makes you thinkthat _I _did something like that to a poor, innocent Gryffindor?" he defended, his voice dripping with barely concealed sarcasm.

Hermione's newest friend raised his brow and licked his lips in what appeared to be a nervous habit.

"You're the only one who'd attack a pureblood girl in spite, Blood Traitor."

Something flashed behind Sirius' eyes but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with a cocky smile. He brought himself to his full height, being put to shame by his rivals own 6'2ish frame. "At least I'd do it to her face, unlike some sly bastards."

"Mr. Black!" A stern voice bellowed. "Ten points from Gryffindor for such language and another ten for misconduct towards another student."

Not even a moment later, the bell signaling the end of class rang out and everyone sprang from their seats not even waiting to be dismissed; most pointing and giggling on the way out. Ignoring the comments, but still feeling mortified, Hermione collected her things gingerly before exiting the class.

"It dissolves material without burning the skin," a voice behind her said. She turned around and saw her rescuer. "It's a rather ill-humored product from Zonko's. You put it on people's chairs and they don't even notice that their clothes are being dissolved."

She nodded. "It's still embarrassing though."

He smiled reassuringly. "Believe me, I know. It's happened to me and many others before. I dare say neither of us will be the last either. And trust me, you don't even care after the second or third time," he said, patting her head affectingly.

Hermione glanced down the corridor to see the Marauders and Lily's group of girls walking together towards their next class, and noticed Remus walking along but not contributing to any conversation, looking, if Hermione was completely honest, detached from the group, like he didn't want to be there. The glances he sent back to her made her think he felt guilty. Sirius had his arm slung around some random fake blonde bird's shoulders, whispering in her ear and causing her to giggle like an insane schoolgirl and him to smirk deviously. Lily had her arm wrapped around James' waist while he carried her schoolbag, privately chatting together, and Alice seemed to be trying, and failing, to bring Remus into a conversation she, Peter and a few girls were having.

Hermione remembered that these people had influenced her life so much.

Remus Lupin, her teacher, friend, mentor and at times protector. She was even godmother to his son for God's sake! And here she was, in a tentative friendship with the man who had taught her so much since she was thirteen; although to be entirely fair, he wasn't that man yet. She remembered when he held her after news of Ron and Ginny's deaths reached her ears; she was barely eighteen. He had cradled her comatose form in his arms and shushed her for what felt like and probably had been hours.

She remembered on Teddy's second birthday how Dora had conned him in baking the birthday cake and him subtly begging Harry and her for help. The chaos that ensued in the kitchen she would never forget. It didn't matter that the cake was a disaster or that the kitchen had been completely destroyed; Teddy had enjoyed throwing flour at everyone. She remembered receiving a letter from her werewolf friend, months after she disappeared, telling her that himself, his wife and son had fled the Order of Phoenix, wishing for nothing more than a semi normal life for his child, and not being able to disclose his information in case the letter was intercepted. This was a man who had lost everything in his life yet carried on and was rewarded with a family he never thought he could have; a man who taught her that family and friends were worth everything.

James and Lily Potter had always seemed to be amazing people. Loving parents that had gone through things no parents should ever have to endure. A couple whose love story had made teenage girls swoon with envy and made lovers grateful for the simplicity of their relationship. A couple that trusted freely and would die for their child. This was the pair that gave her one of the best things that had ever entered her life: Harry. She couldn't thank them enough.

And finally Sirius Black; a man she never really truly understood, with enough complexity to give even her, a headache. An innocent and haunted man whom she sprung from deaths door, falsely convicted for the murder of the people he would deem his real family. One of the first people in the world who looked at her and saw a brilliant young woman instead of a young girl with potential, who praised her intellect but wasn't afraid to correct her when she was wrong. She butted heads with him more then they got along; especially in the case of Kreacher, but they were friends. Sure, their friendship was based more on their mutual love and fierce loyalty to Harry, but they still fought side by side and would have taken a curse for one another. He proved to be the most loyal and devoted man she'd ever met, a man who was so terrified of betraying his friends that to ensure it never happened, devised a plan to protect them without their involvement, inadvertently guaranteeing their prophesied demise. A man who died for those he loved as well as his own impulsiveness.

All these people, these fantastic people that had meant so much to her and to each other…

…and now they were treating her like she was scum.

"I just can't believe they did that," she admitted solemnly.

"Don't worry about the Gryffindors. They're all ponces anyway," her Slytherin buddy insisted.

"Oh?" Hermione queried mockingly, "Does that make me a ponce too?"

He looked at her quite blankly for a moment before rubbing his chin in thought. Clicking his fingers as though having a sudden epiphany he smiled. "Yep, it sure does!"

Hermione laughed a little, happy to have found someone with a sense of humor and not prejudiced against her.

"Well, Princess Silea, I best be off, potions calls me." And with an exaggerated bow, he waltzed off in the direction of his next class before stopping abruptly and turning around again. "Oh! Before I forget, I'm Barty Crouch, nice to officially meet you!"

Hermione's entire body froze at his introduction. _Death Eater_.

**A/N: I've finished my exams and I believe I've done well on every single one of them! Thanks to the well-wishers! Okay, business time. I'm looking for a beta now. I've never had one before so I don't know how they work at all. They also have to be okay with my bizarre updating schedule. So, if anyone is interested please, let me know. **


	8. I'm A Mudblood

**Short Birthday Special!**

Downhearted by the fact that her newest friend would attempt to murder her best friend in the future, Hermione sulked all the way to her next class, discreetly following the other Gryffindors to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Remus would occasionally glance back at her and give her a slight smile, obviously seeing she was alone, but also not willing oppose his friends. Other than Remus though, Hermione stayed practically invisible compared to her other fellow Gryffindors.

Briefly pausing at the door, she watched the Marauders say goodbye to Peter who apparently had a free period, before following them into the classroom, finding it just as she remembered it; large and spacious with rows of desks and bizarre little creatures in jars on the shelves. The teacher's desk was neat and tidy, with books stacked on top of it; Hermione doubted she'd be able to see the teacher over the top of them all.

"Silea," a small voice called her. Spinning around, Hermione saw Remus waving her over. "Come sit here," he said, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

More than happy to oblige, Hermione snagged the seat in relief, giving Remus a large smile, grateful for his kindness.

"You've got to be _kidding_ me, Moony…"

Hermione leaned over and looked for the source of the noise and immediately held back a groan. Sirius Black was sitting next to Remus. _Oh Merlin_. She took back what she said earlier about Remus' kindness. Putting her and Sirius with in the same vicinity of one another was detrimental to everyone's health.

Sirius was pointedly ignoring her, staring straight at the front of the room, as if acting like she didn't exist would make it true. Determined to last through this class without another episode of her anatomy being displayed, Hermione echoed his actions.

Remus suddenly appeared uncomfortable between his two friends. He kept looking back and forth as if unsure which one to talk to. Occasionally, he'd open his mouth only to slam it shut again and look self-consciously towards the other.

'_Awkward? Nope, not at all. I'm pretending it's not even happening,' _she thought.Thankfully though, the teacher came in at that point. 

He was a tall, well-built man with weary, black eyes and a sagging face. His ashen hair looked as though it had never seen a brush; or hair conditioner for that matter, and he wore clothes that put Professor Lupin to shame, doing a good job of passing for a hermit.

"Hello class, I'm Professor Jenkins and I'll be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher; now, enough of the introductions. Open your textbooks to page seven."

Hermione opened her book and waited for further instruction when a voice broke her thoughts.

"Silea," Remus finally whispered. She looked at him to let him know he had her attention and he continued, "I'm so sorry about last class."

Regrettably, Hermione noticed Sirius stiffen before slowing letting his incredulous gaze fall of his werewolf friend.

Remus, oblivious to his best friend listening in on the conversation continued. "It was uncalled for and very immature. If I had of known they were going to do something I would have stopped them. Sirius and James don't usually target someone without a reason. They're just being gits."

By this point, Sirius' eyes had bugged and his jaw had dropped.

"Excuse me Moony, but I was under the impression that she was a worthless Pureblood. Or has that conversation disappeared from your mind?"

Remus fixed Sirius with a glare while Sirius' eyes fell on me.

"Go see Dumbledore. I'm sure that for the _precious_ heiress of the Malfoy family, he'd gladly let you change houses. Go back to your husband and join him in the snake pit, hmm? We don't want you contaminating us Gryffindors with your filth."

Hermione felt her throat tighten considerably…_Filth_. Hermione had been called filth for years; more than a decade now, but never had she been called filth by someone she cared about; someone who wasn't prejudiced against her Muggle blood. No, the only people who called her that usually ended up with a wand pointed at them and a curse sent their way. If not that, she usually ended up on the floor writhing in pain from a Cruciatus curse. Whenever anyone had ever called her filth it had always ended badly for both parties.

Hermione looked at Sirius with tormented eyes and replied in a clipped tone, "What if I wanted to be in Gryffindor? Does that mean anything?" And with that said, Hermione ignored Sirius' gobsmacked face as she fled the classroom, ignoring Professor Jenkins protests as she went.

"Padfoot!" Remus hissed. "What is your problem?"

"_She's_ my problem!" he barked. "Pureblood bigot, thinking she can come and do as she pleases."

"She hasn't done anything like that! And she's a nice girl, not a bigot!"

"Yeah?" Sirius scoffed. "Tell me this, Moony. Have you ever met a Pureblood with a Slytherin family history whose company you actually enjoyed?"

"Yes," Remus replied immediately, "you."

Sirius couldn't help but feel slightly guilty, but then he remembered what his family was like and his resentment towards Silea rose until it was completely solidified.

"I don't count. I'm different."

"Maybe she is too."

Hermione sat under the shade of a tree and looked blankly into the dark waters of the black lake. It was calm and impossible to see the bottom, but Hermione wasn't really _seeing_ what she was looking at. She sighed deeply, running the words Sirius had said so callously over and over again in her head while trying to dispel the thoughts echoing through her mind.

Filth…Mudblood…creature of dirt…magical thief…muggle…whore… abomination. And many other variations of the words that she couldn't and didn't want to remember. She'd been called all of them. Whether it was through newspapers that slandered her name, or slurs from Death Eaters, Hermione had heard them all. She'd dare to say that they didn't affect her anymore, and in the midst of battle she would be right. It was only when someone who she knew and cared for treated her like shit, did she really feel the cutting edge of the insults.

Traitorous tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as her stomach clenched violently. She remembered how years ago, _he_ would call her a 'filthy, little Mudblood', How she didn't even know what the word was until Ron had explained it. How she went from an innocent, little Muggleborn into a filthy, little Mudblood so quickly.

In the eyes of others she would always be filth, no matter the situation.

"I'm a Mudblood," she told herself quietly. "And I'm proud of it."

It had been her mantra for years. Whenever a particularly nasty hex would be thrown at her, or on the rare occasion she had been captured, she'd repeat it over and over in her head, drowning out the maniacal laughter and taunts from her enemies.

"Miss Malfoy," a cheery voice greeted.

Hermione's head snapped up in surprise, only to see the ever positive Dumbledore standing before her. He looked at her with a soft smile, but she could see the hint of concern behind his eyes. It was so thoroughly concealed that Hermione didn't doubted that anyone who didn't know him well enough would mistake it for indifference.

"May I sit with you?" he asked politely.

Despite Hermione's rather melancholy mood, she gave a slight smile, which translated more as a grimace, and nodded her head. So Dumbledore sat beside her and made himself comfortable.

They said nothing for a while, simply staring into the still water of the lake. "I believe," the Headmaster began, "that you should be in Defence Against the Dark Arts right about now." His eyes were twinkling mischievously. "Break does not start for some time yet."

Hermione bowed her head slightly, upset that she had ditched class, but also knowing that if she had stayed there she would have most likely cried, something she didn't want to make a habit of. She'd already broken down in front of Remus; she didn't need to cry in front of anyone else, least of all Sirius.

"May I ask what is troubling you?"

"What makes you think I'm troubled?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious as to how he could know that she was having troubling thoughts.

Again, the twinkle in his eye glistened brightly, knowingly.

"I have never met a young woman who was so adamant about picking her subjects and not dropping them. I doubt she would have put up such a fight only to 'ditch' one of those classes," he answered, using his fingers as quotations marks, making Hermione giggle.

"Perhaps I am having a bad day," the time traveller finally conceded to the great wizard.

Dumbledore grinned widely, and stood up, offering his hand to Hermione.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts is soon to be over; in thirty minutes I believe. I however, must return to my office as I have much paperwork to do. I may also, coincidently, have use of a young, potentially bored student who may be able to help me," he told her in a conspiring voice.

Hermione blinked, well aware that Dumbledore was giving her a chance to not return to class. "Are you allowed to do that?" she asked curiously.

"I'm the Headmaster Miss Malfoy. I can do whatever I want." He paused for a moment, considering. "But only in small doses so no one gets suspicious," he added with a wink and a smile. "However, if you are truly worried and anyone cares to ask, you are in detention for skipping Defence Against the Dark Arts you troublesome girl."

Hermione accepted his hand to stand up, and together, they walked side by side, Dumbledore holding her arm securely as he escorted her to his office.

"Acid pops," Dumbledore told the statues, causing them to open up wide.

"I must say Miss Malfoy; acid pops are truly creative sweets."

Hermione chuckled. "I wouldn't call them 'sweet' per say," she admitted, wrinkling her nose and causing the older man to laugh.

Feeling as comfortable in Dumbledore's office as she always had, Hermione made her way to his desk, but stopped when something caught her eye.

There sitting on his perch, was Fawkes. Hermione felt her eyes water as she remembered the magnificent bird. The phoenix was looking at her with his head cocked to the side, regarding her with something akin to curiosity. In her time, the brilliant bird had left Hogwarts and was never seen again. She felt her heart lurch as she glanced at Dumbledore, remembering why the bird had left. Yet here she was, talking to a dead man who was very much alive. She just knew she would need to see a shrink after this was all over and done with.

"Ah! I see you've noticed Fawkes," Dumbledore commented fondly from behind his desk, ruffling through papers. "Interesting creatures, phoenixes are. Do you know much about them?"

Hermione nodded. "I've read about them."

In truth, she had read about them after having met Fawkes the first go around because she was curious to know more about them and was not satisfied with the insufficient information Dumbledore had given her. She also wanted to know if she could acquire one for herself as a familiar, but was disappointed to learn that it was very difficult, almost impossible, to domesticate one. What a foolish and naïve child she had once been.

Dumbledore nodded, a different look filling his eyes this time as he regarded Hermione. His gaze was sharp but befuddled, as if trying to figure something out but not getting anywhere. Instinctively, Hermione raised her Occlumency shields.

True to his word, Dumbledore did have work for her to do; simply saying 'no rest for the wicked' before sending her a wink. Hermione decided that she and her friends had missed a lot of Dumbledore's sides; his humour it seemed, having diminished over the years.

So immersed was she in her work, Hermione gave a start when the school bell sounded, her eyes jerking around frantically as she gripped her wand, looking for any Death Eaters. Fortunately, Dumbledore didn't notice her mini panic attack, chuckling at her startled reaction instead.

"Well, I'm sure you don't want to spend your break stuck in a stuffy office with an old man all day. Please, feel free to join your classmates in the Great Hall."

Hermione bit her lip, not really wanting to go to the Great Hall and eat by herself. Or even worse, have Remus show pity and sit with her, inevitably causing another explosive argument between her and Sirius.

"If you don't mind sir, I'd rather spend my break in here. I'm not really that hungry," she told him meekly.

"As you wish," he replied with a smile. "But Miss Malfoy," he added in a serious voice, "it is not wise to run from your problems."

Hermione's throat constricted, knowing that he'd consider her time traveling a form of running rather than a last resort.

"I know Professor Dumbledore. I just need to brace myself before I face them."

"Who are _them_, Miss Malfoy?"

Hermione sighed. "Most of the Gryffindor house…particularly Sirius Black."

Dumbledore frowned. "I am rather disappointed that my house isn't giving you the warm welcome they should be."

She shrugged. "It's no big deal."

A kind smile appeared on Dumbledore's face. "But it is." He stood from his desk and approached Fawkes, petting him and feeding him a few snacks. "You and Mr Black have astoundingly similar situations."

'_I assure you, Mr Dumbledore, they're completely different,' _Hermione thought sardonically.

"Oh?"

"He too is the first of his family sorted into a house other than Slytherin. I haven't seen a Black sorted in any of the other houses in the entire time I've been here; which has been a very long time. I suppose you could say Mr Black is," Dumbledore chuckled, "the _white_ sheep of his family."

Dumbledore smiled fondly at his newest student.

"You too are different, Miss Malfoy. I am ashamed to admit it, but before I met you, I had already pegged you as another delicate Pureblood whom could not defend herself. But when you strolled into my office that day with Lucius on your arm, I could see it in your face how different you really were. You still had a fire in your eyes that most prestigious families destroy. I knew as we were speaking that you had the potential for Gryffindor. You are the bravest young woman I've met in a very long time, Miss Malfoy."

Hermione felt her eyes tear up during his small speech. Dumbledore had no idea how much those words would ever mean to her. This was her mentor speaking so highly of her. A man she'd known for years and learnt so much from.

"Thank you."

He smiled. "You are most welcome, Silea," he replied, speaking her first name for the first time since they'd met.

The bell rang not long after, and Hermione didn't feel so nervous about facing the Marauders anymore. Now she would be able to do it with a courage she had forgotten she had. After all, it was only Lily and James she really needed to befriend in order for her mission to work. After promising to visit again soon, she observed the older man return his attention back to the papers on his desk before heading toward the door.

Just shy of exiting though, she turned back to him and smiled, "Has anyone ever told you that your eyes twinkle?"

Dumbledore looked surprised at the observation. "My eyes twinkle? That is the most peculiar thing I've ever heard. No one has ever told me I have twinkling eyes."

"Now someone has," she replied.

As she turned to leave, she heard the floo network open and Dumbledore exclaim into the fire, "Minerva, do I really have twinkling eyes?"

She grinned and left his office in a much more cheerful mood than when she had entered.

**A/N: Happy Birthday to me! Happy 17****th**** to me!**


	9. December 13

The next period went by rather uneventfully for Hermione. For charms, she of course had Professor Flitwick, whom was as sweet and gentle hearted as always, making sure that his newest 7th year student in Hogwarts was not having difficulties with his class. She didn't. In fact, Hermione astounded him with her abilities that ranged well over that of a seventh year. He was so impressed that he had her do all sorts of complex charms that weren't on the curriculum until later in the year. She succeeded each one with her first try.

"Splendid, absolutely splendid!" he praised, almost jumping up and down in his excitement like a small child, which he seemed to be at heart.

What made this class even better for Hermione was the lack of certain Gryffindor students. Lily, Alice and their friends sat at the front, making it practically impossible for them to try anything on her. And as this was a combined class with Hufflepuff, she didn't have to worry about jinxes being thrown her way or outright stares from the Slytherins. She had only one person in her class that she could call her friend; Remus. So all in all, it was the best class she'd had so far.

"Oh, oh, oh…try this one!" Flitwick exclaimed, placing an old, dusty book in front of her. "Can you make this sing?" he asked.

Hermione was momentarily taken aback, she could make it dance easily but she'd never attempted making something sing.

"Silea," she heard Remus whisper beside her, "You need to conserve your energy; the day's not half over yet."

Hermione felt a twinge of annoyance fill her. Both at Remus for reminding her of her weakness, and also for the truth of it; but her usual stubbornness persevered.

"What song, Professor?"

"Whatever comes to mind, Miss Malfoy."

Hermione thought it over for a moment, thinking through songs in her ever knowledgeable head, trying to find one that had been invented in this decade, was not Muggle, and not too inappropriate for school. Panicking slightly, Hermione drew a blank. She doubted Mr. Grinch would be a wise choice and Jingle Bells was far too Muggle. She didn't even want to entertain, or acknowledge, that Barbie Girl had gone through her head. And although any of those songs would have been fairly amusing for her, she furrowed her brows in concentration until another abruptly entered her mind. It was a song from the last movie she had seen. It was a Muggle song, yes, but it would not be invented for years, and to be honest; who in her class was going to see a movie anytime soon? Flitwick? She somehow doubted that.

With the wave of her wand and a silent incantation, the book suddenly came to life. It shook itself off slightly; ridding itself of its dusty exterior, before falling on its side and using its pages in a particular manner, opening its papery mouth. A haunting woman's voice filled the room of students. Her voice captivating, drawing one closer into its grasp like the siren it was, and enchanting its victims into a watery grave.

"_My heart is pierced by cupid, I distain all glittering gold. There is nothing that can console me but my Jolly sailor bold."_

Her voice continued on until the short song was over, and Hermione realized with a start that she had the attention of the entire class. Many looked on in awe at Hermione, gushing about her talent in charms, while others looked on with spite that the new girl had gained special favor with the professor.

Oblivious of his little project being a distraction to the rest of his class, Flitwick clapped his hands excitedly. "Marvelous! Twenty points to Gryffindor for such a brilliant piece of work!" he rewarded, causing Hermione to beam with pride.

He continued on his way, checking the charmed wine from one of his other students, leaving Hermione and Remus to do as they pleased for the rest of the class.

"That was amazing, Silea! What song was it?"

Hermione gave a strained smile. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out."

Remus was surprised by her refusal of a simple question, but he assumed there was a more personal reason behind the song so he let it drop without issue. He decided not to tell his new friend that his best friend's red haired girlfriend was glaring at her with pure malice. Hermione also did not feel the need to inform Remus of her sudden lightheadedness.

Charms finished and lunch came. Remus, opting to spend time with Hermione instead of eating with the marauders in the Great Hall, spent his break in the library with her. Hermione had meant to use the time to research Horcruxes or any other spells that might become useful during her mission, but she couldn't do that with Remus breathing down her neck. So she welcomed the company, knowing she had a free period after lunch in which she could research.

"Have you seen your brother recently?" he asked casually.

Hermione knew he was asking if anything else had happened between Lucius and her, but the truth was they both seemed to be avoiding one another; which she was fine with. It helped her keep up the charade of her actually being Penthasilea Malfoy. To her surprise, she hadn't received a howler or any form of communication from the Malfoy's at all since her arrival at Hogwarts. Perhaps they had non-verbally disowned her.

"I've seen him in class but I haven't spoken to him," she responded, answering his question.

Remus nodded. "At least you have Barty. He's a pretty decent Slytherin unlike Snape, who's a nut-job."

Hermione bit back a dry comment about just how wrong he was and that Snape was the decent Slytherin and Barty the nut-job.

"Barty's nice." _At the moment_…

Remus smiled. "He's pretty smart too; he's not really into the whole house rivalry. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin; it doesn't matter to him. If you're nice to him, he'll be nice to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Considering how Barty had managed to fool Dumbledore for months pretending to be Mad-Eye Moody, the best Auror in the world; she wasn't really surprised that he was the star actor of Hogwarts in his youth.

"Let me guess," Hermione began snidely, "He only talks to Purebloods and Half-bloods, right?"

Remus opened his mouth in what looked like the beginning of a fierce rebuttal, but the argument quickly died on his lips as he stared behind Hermione. Curious as to what had cut off the conversation so suddenly, she turned around. There, a few tables away, she saw Snape pull out some books from his bag and place them on the desk before sitting down.

The bell went and Remus jumped from his chair, scurrying to get his books.

"What class do you have next? I'll take you," he offered in a rush.

"I have a free period," Hermione replied slowly, confused by his actions.

"I'll walk you to the common room then," he told her, his eyes darting back to Snape in anxiety.

"Remus, I've never even been to the common room."

"Here's your chance then."

"Remus!" Hermione stated in a no-nonsense tone. "I still have things to do in the library. If you don't leave now, you'll be late to class."

Remus remained where he was and it wasn't until many reassurances later that he finally left, albeit reluctantly.

A minute later, Hermione had gathered up her finished homework to put it away, intending to start her real research when a bang hit the table. Hermione's eyes shot up in fright, only to see Snape leaning over her, looking her dead in the eyes. It was at this moment that Hermione realized that the library was void of people. She immediately worked up her Occlumency shields.

"I am sure that you are well aware of my talents," he started, "in Legilimency."

Hermione's eyes shot open wider than she ever thought humanly possible. How did he…?

"On the night we entered Hogwarts," he began, finally sitting down, very closely, "we were at the carriages. You paused, looking at seemingly nothing. You climbed on the carriage but you tripped…"

"…and you caught me," Hermione concluded, remembering the incident, but not understanding its significance.

"You looked me in the eyes. Your barriers were down," he gave her a significant look, "_Hermione_."

_Shit_!

What had he seen? Had he seen that she was Muggleborn? Of course he did, he called her by her real name! Had he seen the war? What about Harry? Had he seen the world she lived in that the current one was heading into? What was he going to do? Would he try to harm her? Bribe her? Blackmail her? Hand her over to Voldemort himself?

She gripped her wand tightly, ready to attack in a split second. Her breathing became labored, as her lungs fought for air, his close proximity making her feel claustrophobic. But she stood her ground and stared Snape head on, her grip tightening on her wand even more with each passing second.

Snape, seeing her unease and caution, slowly reached into his bag and pulled out his book; his potions book to be more precise; his book of curses and '_improvements'_. She tensed involuntarily. Was he planning on killing her with the curses she knew lingered on those pages?

To her complete astonishment, he held the book in his left hand and said a silent spell, waving his wand discreetly over it until it lit on fire. It slowly burned to ashes in his hand; his skin somehow immune to the burns the flames tried to inflict. The book was soon no more.

He released the ashes from his hand and onto the table.

"I've seen the damage that book has done. It was never my intention," the seventeen year old Snape said. "That night," he continued, "when I looked into your eyes, it was as if…you had a flashback of every memory containing me." His eyes bore into hers so deeply; she could have sworn he was reading her mind again. "I know _everything_."

Hermione swallowed deeply. "What exactly do you want?"

Severus Snape looked her dead in the eyes and said with the utmost sincerity, "The bastard killed Lily. I'm going to help you."

Afterwards, Hermione wouldn't remember her double potions lesson very well, although she would briefly recall how some girls, her fellow Gryffindors, had ruined her potion; quite deliberately in fact. Once something that would have driven her into a panicked frenzy, now barely fazed her.But after a revelation such as the one Severus Snape had given her, Hermione felt she had every given right to be in a bit of a haze.

Severus knew everything about her. He knew her past life, her heritage, her feelings, her plans, her friends and family; _everything_. Nothing was secret from him. Had it been anyone else, she would have panicked, possibly obliviating the person in her hysteria. But for some strange reason, she trusted Snape; although her reasoning behind it was of a much more touching nature**. **To think that everything he had ever done in his miserable life had been for Lily Evans; even protecting the son of his arch nemesis because of who his mother was. Hermione felt that that was what had convinced her in the end to trust the malevolent man.

She was currently sitting in her divination class, vaguely aware that Peter Pettigrew had opted to sit beside her, but didn't seem to have any interest in conversation. She was thankful that even though Dumbledore had somewhat tricked her into taking the class, she only had to tolerate two more lessons before she would switch to Muggle Studies.Her professor had surprised her though. It was a woman named Sanguine Lovegood. Hermione was astounded to learn that Luna's mother had once been the Divination Professor at Hogwarts.

Sanguine, it seemed, was quite like her unique daughter. She was an otherworldly woman who seemed to barely be in touch with reality. She addressed her students with a serene tone and vacant expression, and never seemed to notice that no one was paying attention to a thing she said. Unlike the fraud Trelawney though, Lovegood never made predictions to or about her students; although sometimes she'd look at someone and pause, adopting a dull expression on her face before shaking her head in dismay or smiling in genuine amusement.

"Now, let's move on to star signs. Mr. Pettigrew, what is your star sign?" she asked.

"Pisces," he mumbled.

Professor Lovegood smiled sweetly. "Ah, yes. The water element, it suits you quite well, Mr. Pettigrew. Your stone is the bloodstone. A Pisces' life pursuit is: 'to avoid feeling alone and instead feel connected to others and the world at large'**. **They secretly wish 'to live their dreams and turn fantasies into realities'. I believe it describes you rather well."

Peter's head dropped to his notes, looking anything but pleased. In fact, he looked like he remembered something solemn and disappointing.

The professor's eyes then turned to Hermione.

"And you, my dear, are?"

Virgo, Hermione nearly said before clamping her mouth shut. Dear Merlin, when was Lucius Malfoy's birthday? It certainly wasn't her own birthday and she had a feeling it would look odd that twins were born on dissimilar days, despite their differences.

"I'm not sure," she replied slowly, trying to buy some time.

The professor smiled. "What's your date of birth, dear?"

'_I'm still trying to figure that out, Professor. If you would just be patient I might come up with a half decent answer,' _she thought.

She knew that it hadn't happened since she'd been there; she knew this because Lucius would have made a big deal about it. There was also no mention from Lucius about a birthday drawing near. August was out, so was September. Oh Merlin, that left ten more months! She wracked her brain for what felt like hours, but was only a few moments in reality. Breathing deeply and resignedly, she said softly so that only those around her could hear her.

"December 13." Her mother's birthday, she decided.

Her teacher's head cocked to the side, "A Sagittarius? Hmm, strange…you have the strongest vibe of a Virgo…" Hermione blinked her eyes rapidly in surprise; maybe this teacher wasn't a complete fraud.

The professor rattled on for a while, talking about how there were different planets on the moon chart or something or rather. Hermione couldn't care less and fell back into her thoughts, completely missing the calculating expression on a particular rat's face.

Just like potions, the class passed before her eyes and before she knew it, she was once again walking through the corridors aimlessly. Other students scurried to their classes while chatting about pointless nothings, as Hermione's head started to ache. Whether the newfound pain was a result of her weakness or the numbness of her brain, Hermione wasn't entirely sure.

Suddenly, she had trouble breathing; something that appeared to be happening a lot lately. She pressed herself against the wall as the late bell rang and students began speeding up around her. The room was spinning, she realized dumbly, so she gripped onto the wall, attempting to steady herself; successfully managing to balance her weight and move forward.

Right foot, left foot, right, left.

She felt lightheadedness course through her as well as fatigue. Perhaps Remus had been right about showing off in Charms. Hugging the wall, she was dimly aware that she wouldn't make it to her quarters, as it was well on the opposite side of the castle. Cursing silently, Hermione tried to focus her gaze, looking for something that might help her.

It took a few moments, but she spotted a door not four meters away from her. Steeling her determination, she forced her wobbly knees towards the door, silently praying that a class wasn't currently in session. Stealthily, so as not to disturb just in case, she opened the door. Peeking through, she could hear no noise and breathed in relief as she entered.

The first thing she noticed was art. Paintings, drawings and sculptures filled the walls and shelves, while painting equipment and carving tools lay scattered around on the tables, abandoned. She decided that she must be in the Hogwarts art room.

She stepped forward and noticed many unused canvases stacked up, and easels folded up in the corner. There was, however, one painting still on its easel in the middle of the room…

…along with its dark haired artist.

Sirius Black had his black hair tied back loosely in a ponytail, occasionally pushing back stray hairs when they got in his way. Perplexed at seeing Sirius there and intrigued to see what he was painting, Hermione walked closer, ignoring her buckling knees. He had long since ditched his robes, and was sporting a white shirt covered in paint splatter, rolled up to his elbows, and black slacks. In one hand, he held a palette, surprising Hermione at the multitude of blended colors it sported; mainly because she would have never thought he knew so many.His right hand was smudging the paint on the canvas, deserting the paintbrush which was resting behind his ear. He growled in frustration and Hermione was surprised to see his forehead spotted with perspiration from intense concentration.

Stepping closer, she was finally able to see his work. A soft gasp of shock escaped her at the greens, browns, blacks, blues and reds that portrayed a sunny day, where a large tree sheltered four boys from the harsh sun. Remus, at the base of the tree, was reading a book, seemingly ignoring an inquisitive Peter reading from over his shoulder. James was staring off into the distance with an adoring expression on his face, where an obscure blob of red hair was settled. Sirius himself appeared to be throwing a quaffle up and down lazily from his laying position, almost bored.

Hermione felt her heart break a little for the boy in front of her.

He was a young man, whom due to his unfortunate upbringing, clung to his friends like lifelines and loved them more than anything. He was oblivious to the fact that Wormtail would rat them out and cause one friend and his wife to die, he himself to be condemned to a life behind bars, and the other to live a life of loneliness and solitude. This was a man who would die for those he loved; perhaps even a stranger, and would ultimately be betrayed by one of the few he trusted most.

Suddenly aware that she was intruding on something very private, Hermione slowly backed up in an attempt to leave the room. Fate however, seemed to be in a mischievous mood, causing her to knock over a jar of paintbrushes in her wake, sending it to the floor with a loud _smash_.

Quicker than lightening, Sirius' head snapped up and his startled eyes quickly filled with pure rage. He dropped his palette and his wand was suddenly in his hand, conjuring a sheet over the canvas. His fists were clenched and Hermione felt afraid of Sirius for the first time in both her lives.

"Get out," he spat through gritted teeth.

Her legs wouldn't move. It was almost like she was petrified again, only this time aware of her surroundings.

"GET OUT!" he roared, upturning a table.

She didn't need to be told again as she fled, barely making it to the door before exhaustion took her, causing Sirius' eyes to widen as she hit the ground.


	10. Stupid, Annoying, Useless Girl!

_She didn't like hospitals._

He remembered Remus telling them something to that effect. So there he was, lugging a sixty-something kilo girl around, trying to find where her bloody room was. _The purple fairy_ – Remus had said. '_Well not everyone looks at who's in the paintings, Moony!' _he grumbled internally.

He continued down the hallway, yet again grateful that classes were in session and that no one was around to ask questions or bump into him. Then again, he would have easily been able to just hand the girl over to the first prat he saw. Looking down at her though, he couldn't help but feel her fainting was partially his fault. He had yelled at her after all, and he knew he was terrifying when angry.

Remus had told them that she was delicate. But glancing down at the unconscious girl who looked to be slumbering quite peacefully in his arms, he doubted it. '_Delicate my arse_!' he thought, rolling his grey eyes. It was at that moment though, that he noticed something funny about her eyes. They were moving around, twitching, like they were rolling around in their sockets. He knew what it was, Rapid Eye Movement or something like that. He paused, not remembering if it was bad thing, and didn't know if he should take her to see Madam Pomfrey or to her quarters.

Growling in annoyance, he readjusted her in his arm.

"Stupid, annoying, useless girl!"

* * *

><p><strong>1997<strong>

_He held her hand tightly as they walked quietly through the cave. It wasn't anything spectacular, just dark, dreary and dull, but it had something important inside – something they needed. Deep into the belly of the cave they crept, flinching at every noise and grasping their wands tightly. The further in they went, the tighter his hold became. Hermione glanced at him curiously a few times, but he never met her gaze. _

_They reached a standstill when a fork appeared in the cave, and Harry paused to consider, looking at his best friends and his ex-nemesis._

"_Okay, Malfoy, now what?"_

_Draco's grip was suddenly almost unbearably tight._

"_I don't know. All I know is it's in this cave. I never exactly got a map, Potter," he replied sarcastically._

_Hermione had a bad feeling in the pit of her gut suddenly, but couldn't explain it. _

"_We'll have to split up," Ron said, looking none too thrilled about the idea. _

"_Hermione and I will take this way, you take the left and Potter can go straight," Draco suggested. _

"_Like hell we're going to listen to you, Ferret! Hermione is not going anywhere alone with you!"_

"_Ronald! I am perfectly capable -"Hermione started, bristling. _

"_When we're home that's fine. But out on a mission, especially one as important this, I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. She comes with one of us," Ron said with a voice of finality._

_There was silence as everyone looked at Draco to see his response. His face was cool and composed, but his grip on her hand was bruising. He sighed and nodded his acquiescence. _

"_Alright," Harry stated, obviously relieved. "Hermione, you go with Ron down the left path, I'll take the straight path, and Malfoy the right." _

_Everyone nodded and moved toward their assigned tunnels, when Hermione was pulled into someone's arms. Looking up, she saw Draco's slightly devastated face. He gazed into her eyes and kissed her forehead tenderly, while softly caressing her face. _

"_Draco, what is it?"_

_He grabbed her hand and placed something in it. "Take it now, Hermione." _

_Hermione lifted it to her eyes and found that it was a tablet, but was unable to identify what it was._

"_Is this…Muggle?"_

"_Just take it, please," he urged, almost desperately._

_Perplexed by his actions, but trusting him fully, she dry swallowed the tablet._

_He smiled serenely and placed his hands on both of her cheeks._

"_Just be careful. Know that I love you and I couldn't do anything," he whispered to her softly, making sure Harry and Ron couldn't hear. _

"_What do you mean?" she tried to ask, but he had already left._

_The bad feeling in her gut only grew stronger._

"_C'mon, Hermione," Ron beckoned. _

_They walked quietly through their chosen tunnel, looking out for any possible traps or Death Eaters along the way. As it was slightly steep, they came to the quick conclusion that they were going uphill. Her legs were quickly becoming heavy like lead and her eyes fought to stay awake. She was panting slightly and even had to pause to catch her breath. _

_Ron chuckled, "How unfit have you gotten?" he joked._

_Hermione whacked him playfully, secretly knowing something was wrong. She wasn't _that_ unfit._

"_Hermione!" Ron yelled in a whisper. "Get over here!"_

_Forcing her muscles forward, Hermione got to where Ron was standing. There was a hole in the cave wall big enough for two people to look through, but it would be a bit of a squeeze if someone wanted to wriggle their way through. _

_Ron pointed down through the hole. "It's Harry!" _

_As he said, Harry was standing in a large space of the cave, obviously the belly. He was looking around, trying to find anything that might help him find what he was looking for. Just as Ron was about to attempt to get through the hole, loud laughter ricocheted throughout the room, and they all froze like stone. _

_The shrill laughter continued, and from the darkness, six figures appeared. Leading them was Bellatrix Lestrange._

"_Ah, yes. Harry Potter's finally here. We've been waiting for you."_

"_Aunt Bella," a voice greeted. And from behind Harry, Draco appeared. _

_Bellatrix's smile grew even wider. "Draco, come over here, watch this historical moment from this side. I'm sure the view would be much more enjoyable then from over there."_

_Like clockwork, Draco obediently made his way to his aunt. Hermione's stomach plummeted to the floor and shattered on impact. So he betrayed them after all, she thought numbly. Oh Draco, what have you done?_

"_That ferret!" Ron spat, struggling to fit his built body through the hole. _

_Harry remained quiet and simply looked at each and every Death Eater with a blank face. "There's no Horcrux in here is there?" _

_Bellatrix's wide smile split her face before falling into a mocking pout. _

"_No, there's not," she told him like he was a little boy, before laughing gleefully. "Kill him!"_

_Within seconds wands were drawn and Harry was ducking for cover. Ron pulled back from the hole and cast bombarda, causing it to explode into large chunks of stone. He jumped down into the fray, casting blinding spells at the Death Eaters. _

_Hermione couldn't move. Bit by bit she slowly fell to her knees, struggling to watch the scene unfold. _

_What was happening to her? What had Draco given her? _

_Spells were cast in a flurry of colors as the boys were quickly overwhelmed by the Death Eaters. Harry and Ron were forced onto their knees in front of Bellatrix and Draco._

_Bellatrix laughed gleefully. "Harry Potter on his knees before me, what a sight to behold!" she exclaimed, twisting her hair around her finger with a thoughtful expression. "What to do? How to kill you two? But first, playtime…_Crucio_!"_

_Hermione could see both boys' eyes scanning the room looking for her as she struggled against whatever Draco had given her, wanting more than anything to help her best friends in the world. Whether they were expecting her to come blazing in to save them or to find her mangled corpse she couldn't determine. Hermione felt tears form in her eyes as she watched them, helpless to save them._

_Harry screamed louder than a banshee as the curse struck him. He clutched his head, his heart, and any part of his body he could reach as he curled into a fetal position. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, knowing full well of the pain the Cruciatus curse inflicted – especially one cast by Bellatrix. _

_Eventually, Bellatrix lifted the curse and laughed insanely as Harry panted heavily, before lifting her wand again. "I suppose the most effective is best in this case. Avada Kedavra!" she shouted._

_Everything seemed to slow down as the green curse left her wand, slowly traveling through the air towards Harry, before finally striking him in the chest. His eyes widened briefly before going dark and glazing over, as his body fell to the floor._

"_HARRY!" Ron yelled in anguish. _

"_Ha-ha-rr-y," Hermione barely managed, feeling the entirety of Ron's pain._

_Tears leaked from her eyes and cascaded down her face in her despair. Her best friend was dead._

_Bellatrix lifted her wand again and pointed it towards the distraught Ron. "Your turn, Blood Traitor, Avada-"_

"_Wait." A voice cut her off. _

_She paused and looked at the owner of the voice. "What Draco?"_

_He was silent for a moment, as if weighing his words before he said them._

"_What fun is there in just killing him?"_

_Bellatrix's eyebrow shot up. "Oh? And what do you suppose we do?"_

"_Curse him. It's a slow and painful death. No one knows he's here so there's no chance of him surviving. It will be a glorious revenge to the traitor."_

_Bellatrix smiled at Draco, an awkward and foreign expression for her face. "Then you can choose what to do."_

_Wordlessly, Draco cast a spell at Ron, knocking him on his back as he quickly started to writhe in agony. The Death Eaters laughed at the sight as Hermione tried to look away but found she couldn't._

"_I'm so proud, Draco!" Bellatrix said in her husky voice. Pausing in her praise, she suddenly had a contemplative look on her face. "Where's the Mudblood?"_

_Hermione's body froze. This was it; she'd join Harry and Ron._

_Draco's eyes strayed upwards and looked straight into her own, his face blank and unreadable._

"_She elected to stay behind and find more Horcrux locations."_

_With those words said, the Death Eaters apparated away._

_Hermione laid there in shock for a moment. He had saved her? For what reason?_

_Ron's agonized screaming prevented her from continuing with those thoughts. For now, she had to save him._

_Oh Merlin, what had she done?_

* * *

><p>Different methods of destroying paintings ran through Sirius' head as he glared at the fairy in front of him. Who knew portraits were so stubborn? Here he was, an unconscious girl in his arms, and the bloody fairy <em>still<em> wanted the bleeding password!

"Just open the door or I'll have to take her to the hospital wing!"

The fairy shook her head. "Rules are rules. No password, no entry!" she giggled.

_Bloody fairy!_

"I swear to Merlin, open this door or so help me I will rip you from your frame!"

The small fairy gasped. "You wouldn't!"

He looked her straight in the eyes. "Try me."

The fairy grumbled, but the door slowly opened.

_Finally_!

Opening it wider as to not bump Malfoy's head, he walked into the room and paused in mild shock. He had expected a grand room of silver and green on every surface, not the modest room of beige and brown he saw before him. Glancing down at the girl in his arms then back up the room, he shrugged.

'_Strange girl_,' he concluded.

Dumping her unceremoniously on the bed, he then turned to leave. As he approached the door however, he paused, a nagging voice sounding in his head.

'_You're not really going to leave her in this state, are you?'_

Sirius growled, '_and this is why I don't listen to you, conscience_.'

Turning back around, he looked at the Gryffindor girl with distaste. Sighing, he whipped his wand out and levitated her long enough to pull the covers back before dropping her back in bed. He winced slightly; he really needed to work on that. Taking off her shoes and robes, leaving her only in her top and shorts, he pulled the blankets over her, noticing that her eyes were still roaming around in their sockets.

Unexpectedly, she started shifting in her bed, tossing slightly. Surprised by the abruptness, Sirius crouched down next to her. He'd seen people in the throes of a nightmare before, tossing and turning as if they were really there, but this was strange. It was like she was fighting against something, something not really there even in her mind…bizarre.

"Ha-ha-rry," she murmured.

With a raised brow, Sirius wondered briefly who Harry was and what he'd done to be a part of her nightmares.

Her hand reached out as she struggled against the sheets, as though reaching for someone, her face contorted with pain as tears leaked from her eyes. Gently, Sirius reached out to wipe the tears from her cheek, trying not to disturb her; he knew that waking someone in a nightmare wasn't supposed to be smart. When she leaned into the palm of his hand slightly though, he retracted it quickly, as if it burned.

Why was he even bothering to look after her?

Seeing her now, she looked like she had on the Hogwarts express when they first met; haunted. He remembered her laughing happily along with them, even though he could tell it was under false pretenses.

And while he still believed her to be nothing more than a spoiled, filthy Slytherin, he couldn't help but wonder what could have happened to her to cause such vivid nightmares. It also bothered him that for a split second, he found himself concerned for her and thinking that maybe there was something different about her after all.

He fled before his thoughts went any further, but it was too late; it had already begun to plague him.

* * *

><p>Hermione was walking through the deserted corridors when someone grabbed her arm, pulling her into an empty classroom. Stifling a scream,she readied her wand at her attacker's throat, opening her mouth to curse him when she realized who it was.<p>

"Severus!" she hissed. "Don't do that!"

Severus raised an eyebrow and shrugged innocently. "It was the only way to get your attention."

Breathing heavily to calm herself down from the surprise attack, she finally wondered why he'd tracked her down in private.

"Did you find _it_?" she whispered anxiously.

He gave her a condescending look. "Would I really be cornering you in a hallway if I had?"

Ignoring the tone that reminded her strongly of her previously most hated professor, she pressed on. "We've been at it for weeks now Severus. In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have all the time in the world."

He rolled his eyes at the Gryffindor. "Really Hermione, if you're that desperate why don't _you_ look for it? After all, you're the only one who knows its exact location."

"You know why I can't, Severus; I'm being followed," she replied irritably.

She had woken up alone in her bed two months ago after fainting in front of Sirius. She could only assume it was him that had gotten her there. Since then, he'd been sticking to her like a flea. He'd linger in the distance, always laughing and pulling pranks, but he was always watching her with a suspicious and curious eye. More than once she'd tried to sneak out of her room after curfew to help Severus, but he'd always appeared within minutes.

It was driving her mad.

"He's a mutt, kick him and he'll crawl back to his kennel."

"Severus!"

"Look Hermione, I'll go again tonight but I can't promise anything. At the rate I'm going I won't have it until graduation."

Hermione gave her consent and quickly left the classroom.

She began making her way to the library, only to once again, be dragged into a classroom. And this time, it was not a friendly face that greeted her.

"Rabastan," she greeted coldly.

"Ahh, my beautiful Silea. How are you?"

"I'd be better if you left me alone. And I'm not yours," Hermione spat at him.

He chuckled darkly and played with a stand of her dark hair.

"Not yet you aren't. But when graduation day comes, you'll be mine by law and matrimony."

Hermione sneered at him before leaving the classroom; he thankfully, did not follow.

Continuing on towards the library, she felt yet _another_ hand grab her wrist.

"If you drag me into a classroom, so help me Merlin I will hex you."

"Wow, didn't realize you were that violent."

Hermione smiled and turned around to look at a bashful Remus.

"I'm sorry Remus. I just don't like to be manhandled."

He smiled. "I'm going to the library to study with a friend before dinner. Want to come?"

Hermione grinned. "Sure, I was just on my way there myself."

His friend turned out to be Barty Jr. causing Hermione to smile. Over the past few weeks she'd become much less cautious of him; something Barty was more than happy with. In fact, it barely bothered Hermione that he was telling jokes more than he was studying.

"So, Gryffindor princess, what was that I saw today in potions, eh?" Barty asked slyly, nudging her shoulder.

She shuddered at the memory. "I've been partnered with Georgiana Fredrickson."

Barty burst out laughing, abruptly stopping when a young Ms. Pince glared their way. "Sorry," he mouthed as silently as possible before turning his attention back to Hermione. "That explains her little tantrum then."

Georgiana Fredrickson was a Gryffindor Muggleborn student hell bent on making Hermione Granger's, or really Penthesilea Malfoy's, life miserable. She was friends with the equally uncharacteristically hostile Lily Evans. A very feisty girl with both looks and intelligence, she had long blonde hair and a beach sun tan that made her blue eyes gleam. Hermione was just curious as to why the girl had it in for her.

"Well, she just doesn't like me for some reason, and I've never done anything to her."

"You haven't done anything to Evans either but she can't stand you."

"They're best friends, Barty. What'd you expect? Of course they allied against me if one couldn't stand me."

"Umm, guys-" Remus tried to cut in timidly and quite unsuccessfully.

"Do you want my personal opinion? One I'm sure you'd agree with," Barty declared loudly. "I think she's an outright tart."

"Good thing I didn't ask your opinion then, twitchy tongue," a dry voice sounded from behind them.

"-she's right behind you," Remus finished helplessly.

Hermione felt embarrassed at being caught slandering the girl, however unintentionally. "Fredrickson, I didn't mean-"

"I really don't care, Malfoy," she snapped, effectively cutting Hermione off. "I'm only here because we have a potion due next week. I've come to discuss when we're doing that."

"Maybe," Barty jumped in, "when you get your head out of your arse and let it join us all up here in the real word."

"I don't have time to deal with you, twitchy tongue. I'm talking to Malfoy."

Hermione cut in before Barty could respond, "I'm free whenever you are."

"Tonight then, your quarters, just after dinner," she said, leaving as abruptly as she had come.

Barty shuddered. "I hate that woman!"

"You don't have to spend over an hour with her tonight," Hermione informed him dryly, not at all looking forward to their meeting.

Dinner came and went quickly without any hiccups; almost. It wasn't until just before she left when Severus walked passed her and dropped a note in her pocket. Scanning it discreetly, it read: _Can't do it tonight – DE meeting. You will have to._

_Great, so much for meeting Fredrickson._

Rushing to her quarters, she found the girl in question leaning against the portrait, ignoring the excited fairy. As Hermione drew closer, Fredrickson spotted her and met her halfway.

"You ready?" she asked dryly.

"I actually have something I need to do. But I can meet you tomorrow?" Hermione trailed off uncertainly.

Fredrickson snorted. "Right, go off and torture some first year, I'll be working on our project," she huffed and started walking away. "But if I end up doing the whole thing by myself, I'm not giving you any credit."

The second she was out of sight, Hermione was off. She snuck her way past any students and made her way to the seventh floor corridor. Glancing left and right after pacing back and forth the same spot three times, she entered a secret room that only few knew about.

Little did she know that her shadow had decided it was a good time to follow her.

* * *

><p>Sirius Black had officially decided that Penthesilea Malfoy was a walking talking contradiction.<p>

She walked with her head held high like all Slytherin princesses were taught, but would duck her head down when she was uncomfortable with the situation. She would talk to anyone and everyone no matter their blood, but remained proud of her own family; although her relationship with her family really made Sirius wonder.

When it came to who she was friends with, Sirius had more than once gone to Madam Pomfrey for something to fix his headache.

Rabastan, whom Sirius was astounded to find that she was betrothed to, was a typical pureblood bigot. So, Silea would, without question, be all over him. But no, instead she looked as though she could barely stand him.

Lucius was her brother and apparently her only companion growing up; they'd definitely be close, they were twins after all. Again, if Silea spied him in the corridor she'd take off quicker than James' broom. More than once Sirius had seen Lucius try and corner his sister, but neither Silea nor Sirius ever stayed long enough to find out what he wanted. One thing was very obvious though, it was a very one sided platonic love.

Her relationship with Barty and Snape were strange too; Snape's more so. Whereas Barty and Silea would talk in class and sometimes study together, Silea never allowed herself to call him her friend, keeping a strong barrier up between them. Snape however, seemed to know her deepest, darkest secrets; something which Silea seemed both petrified and relieved about. Her meetings with him didn't make Sirius any more comfortable around her.

She was getting very close to Remus though. Sirius couldn't figure out what had happened for them to have such blind trust in each other, and Moony obviously wasn't going to share anytime soon. Thankfully though, Remus had enough sense not to bring her to eat with them.

Which brought up another point; the girl really didn't have any friends, and looked as though she didn't even need them. She was a downright loner; always looking into the dustiest and most bizarre titled books, seeming more than content.

Sirius found himself unconsciously keeping an eye on her since her fainting incident. Whenever they were in the same room, his eyes would be drawn to her, and when left to his own devices, he could barely help following her.

So when Georgie came back into the common room seething about useless purebloods, Sirius just couldn't resist finding out what would keep the girl from something as important, at least to her, as her studies.

When he followed her onto the seventh floor, he was beyond intrigued as to what she could have planned in the deserted corridor. When she started up a concentrated pace in front of a bare wall, Sirius became more than a little bit concerned for her sanity.

So, imagine his surprise when the wall suddenly formed into a door. Jaw dropped and eyes wide, he watched as the dark haired girl walked inside and disappeared along with the door.

Oh if only they hadn't lost the Marauders map he'd totally mark this!

Curious, Sirius Black dropped James' cloak to the floor and stared at the wall where just previously there had been a door.

"What the bloody hell are you up to?" he mumbled to himself.

**A/N: This was physically painful to write. I had no idea where I was going with this. Very sorry for the delay!**


	11. What Have I Ever Done To You?

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. It was not in a positive way.

For what felt like years Hermione had searched and searched through the Room of Requirement looking for a particular object that was of great importance and looking towards the location of the door, she was barely even one tenth away from the entrance. She growled in an almost animalistic manner before throwing a random object across the room, snarling when it almost hit her feet in the pathetic attempt.

_Damn these weak limbs! _

Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly and leant against a pile of junk. Her back was aching from bending and meandering around, her eyes were about to finally rebel against her and simply quit while her limbs were deciding it was the perfect time to impersonate jelly. She wouldn't last another minute searching and she really didn't want to pass out here.

Although not expecting to find the Diadem on her first night looking, especially when Snape had already been looking, she was still frustrated beyond belief that she could have made such little progress on such an important mission. Sure, the room was no small feat but to Hermione Granger, her performance just was not good enough.

Hauling herself off the ground was no simple task, but she managed to force her wearied bones to cooperate and left the room without a glance back. Sneaking through the corridors was surprisingly easy since it seemed that the Head of Houses and prefects appeared to be slacking off slightly (a shock to Hermione to think that Remus or Lily would shirk their duties) but she was grateful to return to her quarters without any hassles. Although it was regretful to see that the sun was starting to make its appearance for the day. With an apology to the good purple fairy for disturbing her slumber, Hermione went straight to bed but regretfully couldn't sleep.

She needed to find the diadem and quickly. She didn't have forever. She had to find the diadem before graduation, although a year away, Hermione didn't fancy spending all her time looking around in that dusty room potentially plagued with Cornish Pixies. No thank you. She still needed to find a way to break into Dumbledore's office as well, there was no way he was going to let her waltz into his office, manhandle the sorting hat a bit and then walk off with a legendary sword – a weapon that is basically useless to her until she could acquire basilisk venom to impregnate it with. Then she had the other precious Horcruxes of Voldemort to destroy. Thankfully, Harry and Nagini were not Horcruxes yet (or even alive for that matter) so that lowered her item demand by two, leaving her with four deadly objects remaining; Hufflepuffs cup, slytherins locket, riddles diary and gaunt ring. Before any real thoughts could manifest on how she would accomplish destroying these pieces of corrupt souls – sleep took her.

* * *

><p>It had felt like a blink of an eye before Hermione's wand went off like an alarm clock, informing her that I was time to get ready for the day. Groaning in dismay, she rolled out of bed and prepared for the last day of the week – Friday.<p>

Entering the Great Hall for breakfast, Hermione's eyes peered around the almost desolate room; it would appear people didn't wake up early on Fridays. Or perhaps it was just one of those lazy days, not that she could blame them, she'd still be abed if she could help it. Those few that happened to be up and about seemed groggy with sleep or too ravenous to really observe her surroundings. Perfect.

As much as Hermione wished she could stay snuggled up in her sheets, her eyes found what they'd been looking for and discreetly met Severus Snape.

Severus gave a nod of acknowledgment to her presence and gestured they move to a quiet corner. Hermione agreed, and followed a few paces behind one another. As they walked, he gave a silent and subtle questioning gaze in regard to Ravenclaw's Diadem. She gave the slightest shake of her head to say she hadn't found it and Snape nodded his as if he were expecting that response. Once they believe they were out of obvious sight, the two leaped straight into business.

"How'd the DE meeting go?" Hermione queried.

"No knew improvements as to any movement. They're still waiting for orders that the Dark Lord will never give them. However, your little friend Crouch was there last night." Severus sneered. He was not fond of the extrovert Barty.

"Barty is a Death Eater already?" Hermione asked downhearted. So she wouldn't be able to help him either then?

Snape shrugged. "He was _there_ but wasn't really _there_. It was like he was only there because someone dragged him rather that any actual interest. From what you've told me about him, he doesn't become a hard core Death Eater until he actually meets and is manipulated by the dark lord."

"One can only hope."

"What about Peter?"

Severus grimaced. "I'm still struggling with the knowledge that Pettigrew managed to become a Death Eater in your time. Really, we all knew he was a witless and pathetic excuse for a human being but he sure does exceed expectations. Even _I_ find him deplorable."

"Severus!" Hermione hissed. "Stay focused! Was he there?"

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "No, he wasn't. He's never even been to a meeting. He's never even been considered-"

"Severus, I think I get it."

Severus gave her a half-hearted glare and huffed slightly before his posture turned serious again. "Do you want us both to go tonight?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't, I have to see Fredrickson and work on our potions assignment. She's already angry with me, the last thing I need is for her to have a vendetta against me."

He nodded. "I'll have a look around again tonight. Now, for tomorrows adventure are you sure you will be alright on your own?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Knock turn alley's got nothing on me. Believe me, Severus, I can deal with it."

He looked annoyed, "Don't get too cocky, Hermione. Just because you've handled worse doesn't mean you can handle knock turn alley."

Hermione nodded, and after noting the sudden increase of students entering the great hall, decided that their conversation was best left finished.

Nodding their goodbyes, Hermione retreated to the Gryffindor table, completely prepared to spend breakfast alone. To her surprise, she'd barely settled down before a five kilogram bag was dumped on the table next to her food.

Jumping and suppressing the urge to hex the person she instead glared at the girl. Georgiana Fredrickson looked less than pleased to see her either. Sitting down next to her, Fredrickson's face screwed up as if she had to sit next to mud but like a true Gryffindor braved it.

"You said you would work on the potion tonight. Are you going to hold up to your word? Or is it as useless as your acting?" she sniped.

Hermione recoiled slightly; knowing that Fredrickson was deliberately trying to anger her and maybe even start a fight but Hermione was in no temperament to deal with moody teenagers.

"Meet me at my quarters after dinner and we'll work on it then."

Georgiana looked as though she were about to argue before Sirius plumped down next to her looking the very definition of drowsy. Wordlessly, he scooped food onto his plate (and for some reason on another plate) and patted Fredrickson's head affectionately.

"Moirn', Georgie." He spoke through a yawn, not even granting a reaction to his hand being violently slapped away.

"Where's Remus, Black?" Hermione asked politely, hoping that Sirius was in a good mood that morning.

"You already know Georgie, last night was the full mo-" cutting his own sentence off when finally noticing Hermione at long last, Sirius snapped awake "Georgie, please tell me you're not fraternizing with the enemy too, are you?"

Fredrickson scoffed, "Yeah bloody right, I'm only clearing up about a potions project, let's move."

Not needing to be told twice, Sirius leapt up at the chance and the two wandered off to the opposite end of the hall.

Suddenly losing her appetite at the unfair treatment, Hermione grabbed an apple, gathered her things and left for her free time. Fleeing to the library, Hermione gathered her thoughts and tried desperately not to feel offended or hurt by their dismissal and obvious distaste of her.

She also was worried about Remus. Of course he'd been through full moons and transformations before but that made her no less worried about his safety. She'd check up on him at the hospital during break.

Breathing in deeply, Hermione unpacked her books and started studying. She honestly didn't care what subject it was for but she needed something to keep her mind off Remus' health, and Sirius and Fredrickson. Their behavior towards her was really beginning to bring her down. Lily and everyone else made sure she felt less then welcome in Gryffindor or even at the school.

Hermione had been sitting then for barely ten minutes before a voice interrupted her. A much unexpected person's voice.

"You shouldn't let them treat you like that," she started in her regal voice. "They'll only have more power over you."

Hermione scoffed towards her but chose not to respond.

She sighed "Penthesilea-"

"What is it with people interrupting everything I do?" Hermione huffed. "I can't eat in peace, I can't speak in peace, I can't study in peace, I can't even sit in peace! It's really rather annoying!"

Narcissa mostly ignored Hermione's rant but raised eyebrow and slight curl of her lip gave away that she though the behavior was less then appropriate. She then gracefully sat down next to Hermione without an invitation.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Throwing her quill onto the table she threw her hands up in the air.

"I was studying but that's obviously not happening."

Narcissa didn't seem to appreciate the attitude but she still tried to remain at least partially civil and nodded in understanding.

"It's only natural to want to keep up with your peers in your studies after missing six years but I hear you on academic par with the rest of us." _Ha, you have no idea what's wrong with that statement_. "I'm sure a few moments of your time will not hinder you in the least." She spoke with her hands resting in her knees and a calm demeanor but Hermione knew better that Narcissa wanted something.

"What do you want?"

Narcissa took a calming breath, as though she was trying to keep her docile reputation.

"What is it?" Hermione demanded impatiently.

"Your brothers in agony over not seeing you and judging from your appearance you're not fairing any better." Narcissa snipped.

Hermione was taken aback by her words – they were definitely the last she expected from Narcissa. Hermione also didn't like the accusation that she cared anything at all for Lucius, especially making a snide remark to her exhausted appearance.

"I didn't sleep last night." Which was completely true.

"Were you in the hospital wing?"

"Well, no but I don't see-"

"Then whatever is keeping you from your brother is not in regard to your health."

"In regard to my health? Why does everyone thing everything in in regards to my health?" Hermione asked incredulity. "It has nothing to do with my health! He practically disowned me!"

"If he has told me correctly, you told him to leave making it perfectly clear _he_ was not allowed in _your_ life anymore. Not the other way around."

Hermione shook her head annoyed. "I'm done talking about this."

"Penthesilea," Narcissa snapped, abandoning her reputation, "I don't like you, in any shape or form. I didn't even know you existed until start of term and Lucius shares _everything_ with me. Then suddenly, you're here and you're all he can talk or discuss or even _bemoan_ about. I'm sick of his behavior and as much as I have tried to pick him up from this little rut he's gotten himself caught in he will not comply. As much as it pains me to admit, you own a part of him that I will never possess."

Hermione was sure her mouth was hanging open and her eyes had bulged. A shocking realization crashed down upon her. "Are you jealous?" she asked before even thinking the words through.

Narcissa's face went slack and her posture stiffened. Even Peter could have guessed that she'd been offended by the comment. She abruptly stood up and almost knocked the chair over violently by sheer force of her movement.

"Obviously you don't care for your brother at all. Your brother speaks of a little girl he spent his childhood with whom he loved with all his heart but when I look at you, I can't see even the slightest resemblance between you and her." With that said, she stalked off.

Hermione waited for a moment or two before packing her things and returning to her quarters. She told herself she was leaving because she would obviously never be able to go anywhere except her quarters without being interrupted but deep down she knew it was because guilt was gnawing at her and she wanted to leave before tears made way.

Merlin's beard, her breakdown with Remus left her soft.

As she left, two curious eyes finally looked around some of the library stacks and peered at each other.

Neither heard what was said between the two purebloods but they were obviously in disagreement of something and arguing their point. This only made him more suspicious.

Sirius leaning over and whispered in her ear. "Georgie, I want you to keep an eye on her and make sure she's not up to anything."

"Already on it."

* * *

><p>The more he watched her, the more unsure he was about anything that was Penthesilea Malfoy.<p>

"_My heart is pierced by cupid, I distain all glittering gold. There is nothing that can console me but my Jolly sailor bold"_

Hermione sang softly as she travelled down the corridor.

The song had been stuck in her head recently, ever since she charmed a book to sing it for Professor Flitwick. It made her reminisce about home.

"_Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be. Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea."_

She chuckled slightly as she remembered Ron starting to go absolutely stir crazy from being confined to Shell Cottage, Grimmold place or a tent in the middle of nowhere. He complained, and complained, and complained until Hermione just couldn't take it anymore. With Harry in toe, the two dragged Ron to a theatre that absolutely baffled Ron. He couldn't understand any explanation of film they gave to him and they eventually accepted that his simple brain would have to see it to understand it.

_"My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold, there is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold."_

She remembered how they bickered over what movie to see. Harry wasn't sure what movies were what since he'd never paid much attention to trailers (Not that he had much time to spare for such trivial things) and Ron only begged they didn't see anything 'girlie'. Hermione eventually suggested _Pirates of the Caribbean: on Strangers Tide_ and after assuring them that didn't have to see its prequels to understand what's happening, they all agreed. After all, what boy - muggle or wizard could turn down a story about _pirates_.

"_My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold."_

She remembered hearing this song and being just as entranced with it as the sailors in the movie. The chilling melody that would draw the men to their deaths, the beautiful women that sung it, the knowledge that all those sailors were being used was, in a way, heartbreaking to her.

She remembered singing it as they left the theatre and Harry and Ron pretending they were sailors being drawn to their death. They sang the song together and linked their arms and skipped along in the muggle city, intent on forgetting any world but the one that awaited them in the morning.

Come to think of it, that was the last time they had ever had fun together. Genuine fun.

"_Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be. Who love a jolly sailor bold that ploughs the raging sea."_

The song would no doubt haunt her now.

She snapped out of her memories by a loud, slow, singular applause.

"Very well done." A sarcastic voice pseudo-praised, "Not a voice to gloat about but the song itself is very nice. Come up with that yourself, Malfoy?"

In no mood for his antics, Hermione instantly rounded on him.

"What have I ever done to you?" She demanded.

Sirius seemed momentarily stumped by her outburst but riled up to her just the same.

"Because you're a no good pureblood bigot who's only concerns in life it to make the lives of muggleborns and muggle alike miserable. That's enough to make me hate you."

Hermione laughed bitterly and clenched her fists, knowing that she'd start crying if much more was said. The day had already been horrible. The last thing she needed was anymore insults thrown her way.

"You're such a hypocrite. You hate Slytherins because they view all non-pure bloods as inferior, but you and your friends do the same when you assume all Slytherins are alike and should be hated for it."

"Don't go preaching your bloody bullshit to me!" he bellowed, "I know your kind!"

"My kind?" Hermione asked calmly. "Of course you would. You should know 'my kind'." At Sirius' confused face she added. "It's you're kind too."

He recoiled from her and put as much distance between them as he could.

"I am not a mindless pawn of my parents who will do whatever they say and believe whatever they're taught – that is what makes me different from _your_ kind."

Hermione looked him in the eyes.

"_Their_ kind." Hermione enunciated. "And funny, that's what makes me different from them too."

Sirius opened his mouth to argue but Hermione cut him off. "What we do defines us. I have done _nothing_ to you! I don't deserve any of the mistreatment you're throwing my way. I have not fought, clawed and begged to get to where I am to be put down by egotistical and prejudice people, especially a prat like you!"

She finally broke.

Sirius became alarmed as she started to tremble and retracted his arm as it reached to console her. He had too much pride to admit that she had a point. As he finally moved to ask her if she was okay, she brushed passed him and ignored his calls to her.

With tears beginning to stream down her face, she ran to the only person she trusted to bring her any comfort right now.

Luckily, he was standing outside when she reached him. He'd barely had a chance to say her name in curiosity before she flung herself into his arms and started bawling like a baby. When her sobs and wails gave away her predicament she felt herself being guided into a warm room and seated down in a chair as her hair was stroked gently and cooing sounds filled hear ears.

"It's alright, my dear. Everything will be alright."

She pulled herself away just enough to look at her comforter and smile gratefully at him before returning into his embrace. She knew she could count on him.

Dumbledore.

**A/N: Hey guys! So sorry about the delay in updating i know it's been ages but it appears my beta and i have gone through some very busy times and neither of us seemed to be able to find a time to sit down and write/edit. I will try to update soon but Exams are comming up and i'm also moving. Yay! But as you can guess, they're both time consuming. I hope you'll be patient and i sincerly hope you enjoyed this chapter! As always, i'd love to hear any opinions (Not flames) or comments about the story!**

**Have A Good One!**

**XoXoXoXoXoXoXoX**


	12. No Use If Your Gryffindor Courage Fails

The sobs subsided after what must have been a long while, if the darkening sky outside Dumbledore's office was anything to go by. Even though her tears were spent, she couldn't bring herself to pull away from the elderly man who was gently rubbing her back. She was practically sitting in his lap, but she couldn't bring herself to care. He held her lightly, more so out of his aging bones and lack of physical strength than lack of trying. Dumbledore had been very surprised when he saw Miss Malfoy running towards his office, but everything made sense when he saw her tears, and he immediately opened his arms to embrace her.

If there was one thing Dumbledore couldn't stand, it was being needlessly cruel to others.

Hermione felt her eyes lull as Dumbledore gently rocked her in his arms as though she was a young babe, and for the first time since she had been in the past, she felt wholly safe.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" she heard him ask gently.

Hermione softly shook her head, feeling slightly ashamed of her bout of tears. She was acting weak, and weakness was not an option.

To her disappointment, she stood up reluctantly when Dumbledore prompted her to do so, and stood there like a statue, waiting to be dismissed, while the old headmaster observed his student with a keen eye.

"For a young woman adamant about attending all her classes, you sure do like to skip them."

Hermione gave a half-hearted laugh. "I don't mean to."

Dumbledore nodded with a grin. "How is divination?" he asked with mirth.

Hermione involuntarily shivered. "It is such a useless subject! I cannot wait until I can take on Arthrimancy instead. How many classes do I have until I can move?"

"As I believe, two more."

Hermione nodded. "Okay."

There was silence in the air for a heavy moment before Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Malfoy… Silea… Was I wrong about you?"

Hermione's head shot up towards her professor. "I beg your pardon?"

Dumbledore gave her a hard look. "I once told you that you were a very brave girl. One of the bravest I've seen in a long time. Was I incorrect?"

Hermione felt her eyes pool with tears she thought she had run out of, and shook her head. "But I need to be."

"Then be it. Don't let anyone here deter that stubbornness you showed when you first walked into my office, fighting with me the whole time, making demands and barely accepting any compromise. Don't become the disgrace of a real Malfoy woman."

Hermione visibly flinched, but steeled her jaw. "May I go now?"

Dumbledore looked slightly disheartened, but nodded reluctantly. Before Hermione could make a break for it though, his voice stopped her. "I do hope you continue singing. You have a beautiful voice, Miss Malfoy," he complimented.

Hermione turned to him in shock. He had never heard her sing before.

He gave a glum smile, "You were singing the most beautiful song I think I have ever heard, with a most melancholy tune. Were you not even aware you were singing it?" At her furiously shaking head, he smiled. "Something along the lines of '_my heart is pierced by cupid'_. It must be very important to you."

Hermione choked back a sob and nodded, "Very much." And with that said; she left.

* * *

><p><em><strong>1998<strong>_

_Hermione was pacing back and forth, occasionally taking a sip from her glass of firewhiskey. Hermione Granger rarely drank – but right now she needed it. _

_Ginny was upstairs bawling her eyes out, while hugging a catatonic Molly Weasley. Ron was who knows where, chasing death eaters that had no plans of revealing themselves, and Arthur was too busy trying to contact Bill and Fleur with the abysmal news…_

_Fred and George were dead…killed by death eaters._

"_I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS!" Hermione screamed, throwing her half empty glass against the wall where it shattered into several pieces._

_Her friend sitting at the dining table, looked at the broken glass with a blank look in her eyes, but frowned at the mess. _Molly wouldn't appreciate that_, she thought. She nursed her own glass of firewhiskey, but was not as inclined to drink it as the bookworm was._

_Hermione poured herself another glass, leaving the other broken on the floor, before sculling it like it was water to a man dying of thirst. By pure chance, Hermione's eyes saw her reflection, and she traced the ugly scar that ran across her face. She laughed morbidly at the hideous reflection that peered back at her. _If she ever got her hands on him_…_

_Hermione held her sobs in; determined to feel only anger at the deaths of her friends. _

"_I can't do this anymore…" she whispered despairingly. Speaking more to herself than the blonde next to her, she chuckled darkly. "All the death, the fighting…I can't do it much longer. I've been having such horrible dreams…"_

"_Dreams?" _

"_Yes," she replied, finally acknowledging one the few friends she had left in the world. "Most involve me putting my wand to my head." Hermione shook her head in shame. "I can't believe it's become that bad."_

"_I know," Luna whispered, her eyes also glistering with tears. It was hard not to have been attached to or to have loved the twins. Suddenly, her eyes shot upwards, an epiphany reflecting in them. "What if I could help?"_

"_I'd rather do it myself, if you don't mind," Hermione answered haughtily, unsure if Luna was serious in her offer to help her commit suicide. It was just so _against_ everything Luna stood for, but these days everyone had changed._

_Luna shook her head. "No, the war, what if we could end it?"_

_Hermione glanced at her dully, waiting for some tale about some mythological creature that could save the world leave Luna's mouth. "How?" she tried not to scoff._

_Luna hesitated, and it was that disinclination that really caught Hermione's attention. The blonde rarely second guessed herself. "Luna?"_

_Luna breathed in deeply. "It would involve breaking every rule you stand by."_

_Hermione slowly sat down across from her friend and looked deep into Luna's eyes. "How?"_

"_You'll have to be very strong. No use if your Gryffindor courage fails you."_

* * *

><p>Hermione woke up in her bed gasping.<p>

Her chest clenched tightly and she found she couldn't breathe. Panting heavily, she tried to suck in air, but her lungs just wouldn't cooperate. Her throat constricted as she began to panic. She couldn't breathe!

"Silea! Should I get Madam Pomfrey?!" A distressed Fairy Portrait cried out to her mistress in worry, "Silea!"

Suddenly, she caught her breath, and drank the air in greedily, savoring the oxygen, before waving a dismissive hand to the Purple Fairy. "No," she panted. "I-I'm fine."

The Fairy looked unconvinced, but turned back to guarding the entrance. "Are you sure?" she called back.

"Yes!" Hermione yelled in reply, still breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath.

Hermione felt a moment of distress when she realized that panic attacks like these were happening more often than she'd like.

"_If that's what they are…" _a malicious voice taunted in her head.

Standing up, she walked to the bathroom to begin her daily routine. Grabbing her tooth brush and smearing it with paste, she was surprised to look up and discover her hideous scar was as visible as the day she got it. She tenderly traced it, and shivered at its rough and bumpy texture, turning her face at different angles to see if it had diminished any.

It hadn't.

She breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the disappointment she shouldn't have felt. She knew that it would always be there, marring her once flawless face. Opening the mirror cabinet, Hermione grabbed Luna's special brand of De-Aging potion. Momentarily bracing herself, she threw her head back and swallowed the disgusting concoction.

The pain struck her as hard and fast as it did every time she took it. She grasped the sink in agony and clenched her eyes, begging herself not to cry, feeling as her skin crawled around her face, stretching and magically stitching itself up over her scar. Biting down tightly on her lip, she waited for the pain to pass, collapsing in relief when it finally did.

Taking a moment to collect herself, she stood and gazed at her new reflection. A youthful, untarnished and impeccably artificial face stared back at her.

Her eyes, her hair, her scarred skin… all gone.

And Hermione was surprised to feel a pang of longing for the loss.

Glancing at her desk filled with notes and plans as she left her room, she realized she hadn't really set any plan into motion. She'd been halfheartedly looking for the diadem, and she hadn't even started thinking of when she'd get the others. So wrapped up in her own misery, she had failed to attempt the most important part of her mission; befriend the Potters.

She couldn't keep living as a ghost.

Luna would be ashamed of her.

* * *

><p>On her way to the Quidditch pitch, Hermione was surprised to find someone heading the same way from the opposite end of the corridor.<p>

It was barely past sunrise – why was he even awake?

They pointedly ignored one another, expecting the other to head straight, neither appreciating it, when the other turned as well.

Hermione looked everywhere but at Sirius Black, and grew more annoyed with every step they took in the same direction.

Sirius gave an annoyed growl. "Is that as fast as you can walk?"

The time traveler gave him a startled look. "Excuse me?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's very annoying having to slow down just so you can stay in your little daydream."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, not realizing that he'd just admitted to not only walking with her, but also slowing down for her. "You don't have to match my pace!"

He paused for a split second as though suddenly realizing it, but awkwardly shrugged it off.

"Right…" he muttered.

Hermione stood there in confusion, staring at the back of his head as he wandered off. Her jaw was still hanging open when he suddenly spun on his heel and rushed back toward her. Only a foot away from her, he opened his mouth and closed it, repeating the process many times.

Hermione was too stunned to scold him for wasting her time.

He gave a deep sigh and blurted out, "I'm sorry, okay."

If Hermione was shocked before, she was downright flabbergasted now.

"What?" she asked unintelligibly.

Sirius smirked. "I know, a Black apologizing, who knew?"

Despite herself, a small smile appeared on her face.

"Believe me, I know. The shocked looks I get when I apologize make me wonder if my family has ever apologized for anything in the entirety of its existence."

"Probably 'cause they never have," he quipped back.

They both shared a light chuckle before silence reigned. Suddenly Hermione couldn't hold back the question that had been nagging her.

"Why apologize? You've made your contempt of me very obvious."

He scratched his head in what appeared to be mild embarrassment.

"Yeah, I know. I've been a bit of a prat, haven't I?"

"Just a bit," Hermione confirmed, noticing his eyes harden for a split second before going neutral.

A pregnant pause filled the air, neither knowing how to fill it or able to think of a way to walk away without seeming rude.

"Well, ah," Sirius began, "I'm heading to the Quidditch pitch, if you want to do laps together. Not exactly the greatest peace offering…but I've got to train anyway and I noticed you heading there."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't fly."

It was Sirius' turn to look at her in shock. "That's right, you told us on the Hogwarts train that you didn't like it, and we…" he cut himself off, and silence returned.

…_promised to teach me_, Hermione mentally finished for him.

Sirius cleared his throat loudly, as though he'd just realized the same thing.

"I really have been a downright bigot, haven't I?" he asked rhetorically.

Hermione didn't answer; he didn't need to hear that he'd been worse than just a bigot.

Sirius seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. "Well, no time like the present. We'll hit the sheds, find you a spare broom and I'll give you your first lesson. A Potter always keeps his promises."

"Oh, no that's fine…" Hermione cut herself off, "did you just say Potter?"

Hermione had never see Sirius blush before, most likely because it rarely happened. But dear merlin, when he did, he spared no expense. His face went an amazing shade that put even the reddest of tomatoes to shame.

He stuttered wordlessly for a few moments before his shoulders just slumped. "Yes, _Potter_."

Silence surrounded them again. Hermione asked more out of the feeling of necessity to say something than actual curiosity, because she already knew. "Are they that bad?"

She didn't need to elaborate on whom. "More than you could ever know."

If Hermione didn't know him at all, she wouldn't have noticed the slightest hitch of his voice. He was still a good liar, but nowhere near as good as the Sirius from her time was.

Before any silence could fill the air again, Sirius' entire countenance changed.

"So," he began, lifting his broom, "Flying lesson?"

Hermione was mortified to feel the blood rush from her face and her joints stiffen. "Not today."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. You can just watch this time, Gryffindor has the field today," he said with a broad smile. "But I will teach you."

Hermione shook her head again, "No thanks, I've got somewhere to be."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "Out here? There's only the Quidditch pitch. Unless of course your heading for…" his eyes widened in surprise, before narrowing in suspicion. "…unless you're going to the forbidden forest."

Hermione was proud that she didn't stiffen or show any reaction to being caught.

"No, I'm meeting someone."

Sirius nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll see you around then?"

"I don't see how we can't, we have classes together," she replied, before rushing off with a wave over her shoulder.

If she had looked back, she'd have seen Sirius motion for someone to follow her, and then stare after her with suspicious, but conflicted eyes.

"Don't get caught, Georgie."

"I'm not as stupid as you," his friend replied before following after the female Malfoy.

* * *

><p>"What a touching display. Please excuse me whilst I scrub my eyes of the image."<p>

"Shut up, Severus."

The Slytherin released that dry chuckle of his and stepped forward, handing her a rich purple velvet cloak.

"Are you sure you want to go alone?"

"It'll be safer," Hermione told him, taking the offered cloak. As she wrapped it around her, she asked, "Do I want to know where you got this?"

Severus smirked. "Unless you're interested in investing in stolen portkeys anytime soon, I think its best you don't know."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but nodded. She tied the cloak and lifted the velvet hood over her head. "When am I going?"

"Right about…"he was cut off when Hermione vanished from in front of him, "now." He finished uselessly.

Just as he turned to sit on a nearby tree truck, he noticed the rustling of leaves. Drawing his wand, he cast a quiet hex in that general direction. But upon hearing no noise of someone being stuck, he rushed over to push the leaves out of his way.

There was nothing there but twigs, grass and fallen leaves.

These days he was becoming increasingly paranoid. Damn Hermione.

* * *

><p>Hermione landed at the entrance of Knockturn Alley and quickly slipped in. she stayed close to the middle of the road, as far away from any store shops or alleys she could be dragged into. There was only one shop she needed, and it wasn't anywhere near here. More than once she felt eyes bore into her, and her instincts would force her to move just a little bit faster; even dodging a pickpocket in one instance.<p>

When she reached the shop she needed, she couldn't help but feel Severus' intimidating presence may have been useful for her at that moment. It was a tiny space, shabby and looking as though it would collapse into itself at any moment. She found the inside, and the shop keeper to be no different. The second she entered, his beady and weary eyes sized her up. She fit the description of a wealthy customer here under unorthodox reasons; looking for something most likely illegal.

She didn't spare the vials on the shelves a glance as she walked straight to the counter.

Her grey eyes bore into his brown ones, and only a fool who'd never known a Black wouldn't recognize those eyes. The rest of her face was hooded, but if he had to bet his money, he'd guess it was Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black. Strange, though, that she'd even bother trying to hide her presence instead of amplifying it.

"What can I getcha, Mrs. Lestrange?" he asked.

If she was surprised he recognized her, she didn't show it.

"This," she told him, handing him a small slip of paper with two words on it.

_Basilisk Venom_.

Whatever she was up to, he wasn't going to piss her off. Last time he messed with a Black, he'd sported a nice slash across his face for a month.

He retrieved the basilisk venom, giving her the real deal instead of the cheaper knockoff he often sold to customers. He even charged her normal price, which he was certain would get him cursed, but was surprised instead when she just quietly accepted the vial and handed him the coins, before leaving without a trace. It seemed too easy…she must have cast a silent and wandless curse. There was no way he got off Scott free there.

That night he couldn't sleep from fear he'd never wake up.

Hermione was bewildered by how easy the transaction had gone, simply because he thought she was someone else. Well, Bellatrix wasn't the sort of girl you angered and lived to tell the tale. But Hermione was very disturbed to even be mistaken for her.

She thought of the time she was in Malfoy manor, and clenched her eyes shut, unintentionally reliving the pain of her Cruciatus curse all over again. Hermione would indeed need to be exceptionally brave if she was going to complete her mission.

Luna's words rung true in her head…

* * *

><p><em><strong>1998<strong>_

"_You'll have to be very strong. No use if your Gryffindor courage fails you."_

_Hermione almost growled at Luna to cut to the chase when a heart retching scream filled the house. Like lightening the two young women bolted up, their feet sounding like thunder as they raced up the stairs._

"_Molly! What is it?!" Hermione cried out almost hysterically before she even reached the door._

_Sobbing was the only thing heard._

_Bursting into Ginny's room where the sobs came from, they swarmed around Molly clutching her and checking her over for injuries. When they found none, the two exchanged a look. _

"_Molly, what is it?" Hermione persisted, but Molly kept shaking her head and emitting blubbering sounds through the sobs that wracked her body. _

"_Uh, Hermione? You might want to take a look at this," Luna said, handing her a note that was on the windowsill. _

_Snatching the note from the Ravenclaw's hand, Hermione read it, her heart dropping more with each passing word._

_If we were out there, fighting like we were meant to, this wouldn't have happened. My brothers would still be alive. I can't sit still and let this happen. I'm going to fight even if no one else does. At least Ron's doing something right. I'm going to find him. – GW_

_Luna and Hermione exchanged a look with each other, before going to comfort the inconsolable Molly._

_Ginny was as good as dead._

* * *

><p>Shaking off the horrible memory, Hermione wrapped the cloak tighter around her, glad that being lost in her mind had passed the time quickly; the portkey was due to activate soon.<p>

A vision of Ginny's empty, dead eyes stared back at her, and she shivered. Discreetly, she fingered Ginny's bracelet that lived under her sleeve. The green emerald bracelet Harry had given her just before he died. It was found in a blood splattered shack along with a bloody severed hand. Hermione knew it was the hand of a male, and didn't even have to guess to know it was Ron's. It was obviously the doings of Fenrir and his pack. Hermione dreaded the painful deaths they must have faced, and tried to quell the thoughts as to why Ginny's body was absent and only a limb of Ron's was left. Who knew what hungry werewolves ate?

Taking a deep, resonating breath, Hermione hardened herself. If she was going to succeed, she needed to be the hard Hermione who lived in a time of constant danger; she couldn't revert back to her old self here.

She would fight; fight hard, with everything she had until she was dead.

With those final thoughts, she felt a tug in her stomach and didn't resist it, as she felt herself being yanked through what felt like a tube.

Eyes followed her as she vanished. The owner of the eyes looked at the now empty space and tapped a contemplative finger on his chin. The girl was a peculiarity. Her parents had never mentioned her to him, to which no matter what they claimed was odd. Even if the girl was so ill she would be considered useless on a battlefield, she could serve other purposes. She'd snuck out of Hogwarts, where he knew she attended, to go to Knockturn Alley; that in and of itself said she was up to something. He tried his darnedest to guess what was in the bag, to no avail. It was a simple, small brown bag like most others in Knockturn Alley. But as he had watched her walk without any apparent fear, holding herself strongly no matter what glances suspicious looking characters sent her way, the man came to a conclusion rather quickly…

Either she was faking, or making herself out to be weaker than she really was.

Tom Riddle would be watching her closely. But first, a meeting was in order…

**R&R**


	13. You're Nothing But A Mudblood Whore

Severus grunted in annoyance as yet another inanimate object found its way through the air and connected with his head. Enough was enough.

"Hermione, I would appreciate it if you would throw the junk in the _opposite_ direction of where I'm standing."

The grey eyed girl smiled sheepishly. "Sorry." She then pointedly tossed a candle over her other shoulder.

Severus acknowledged her alteration by continuing his search.

It was way passed the time either of them wanted to be awake, nearing two perhaps, but it was a Sunday morning and neither had classes the next day, so they really had no reason to complain. The search for the Diadem Horcrux seemed infinite, and Severus was sure he'd shifted through these piles before, despite being on the opposite end of the room. He was almost convinced that the Room of Requirement didn't want them to find it.

"Urgh, this is endless!" Hermione stressed, throwing another empty box over her shoulder in frustration.

"You'll get over it."

It did nothing to placate her, but she dutifully resumed shifting through junk. After a moment though, she released a scream and fell from the top of her large pile; saved only by a flick of Severus' wand to ensure she didn't splatter to the ground.

"Severus, don't just stand there, help me!"

"I am disinclined to do anything but watch," the Slytherin boy replied, a smirk firmly planted on his lips at the sight before him.

Hovering a few meters high in the air, Hermione Jean Granger; bookworm and lover of all things of knowledge, was being attacked by a ten pound book with rather large pointy teeth, which had apparently also been affected by his levitating spell. Hermione was swinging at it with a small Muggle tennis racquet that had been lying peacefully in its pile before being violently uplifted to attack the fiendish book. It was like watching a tennis game with the ball always returning to Hermione of its own free will. Yes, Severus was content to merely watch. He was sure that if he could lower himself to such a level, that he'd be flat out on the floor asphyxiating from laughter. Instead, he settled for shaking his head with a melodramatic sigh before turning back to his pile of junk.

Moments later, a glistening to his left grabbed his attention and Severus was suddenly enchanted. Unaware of what he was doing, the Slytherin approached the small box and tentatively opened it. Inside, resting on a cloth of blue velvet, sat a miraculous headpiece. He swore he could hear voices arguing with one another.

"_Leave the boy_," a feminie and powerful voice demanded.

"_Touch it_," another one urged in amusement.

"_Be clever boy, think! Don't touch it_!"

"_Just a small little nibble won't do any damage_."

"_It's a trap! Wake up_!"

Intrigued by forces he couldn't understand, Severus raised his hand to touch it.

"_YES_!"

"_NO_!"

"NO!"

His hand was slapped seconds before the very same hand snapped the box shut. Blinking back into awareness, Severus retracted his hand as though it had been burned and glared at the box hatefully, as they both breathed heavily from the adrenaline of the moment.

"Don't worry Severus. It happens to the best of us," Hermione reassured him.

For a moment they just stood there getting their bearings, until they both came to the same realization.

"We found it."

"We did. We really did. Thank you, Severus."

"It's going to save Lily," he replied simply, as though that explained everything.

It did.

Severus chuckled at the now-charred book as they made their way out of the ROR and made their goodbyes. However, as one headed towards the dungeons and the other to her own private chambers, neither was aware of four figure lurking behind her.

* * *

><p>Rabastan was surprised when he received an owl from his parents, especially so late in the night. He was already in his bedclothes, about to turn in after a dorm party downstairs , and while it wasn't late for a Saturday, per say, Rabastan was tired and wanted to sleep, explaining the groan that escaped his lips at the sight of the letter.<p>

"What do they want _this_ time?" he asked rhetorically.

Opening the parchment he found a very short note, direct and to the point, but also very unusual.

_Son,_

_You are to attack the Malfoy girl and report her reaction._

_I await your reply,_

_You father_

The Slytherin stared at the parchment blankly. His father wanted him to do what? Attack his betrothed? Since when was that acceptable? Since when did he get ordered around to do it?

Bleakly Rabastan flipped it over to see if anything was on the back, surprised to find there was.

_The Lord does not like to be kept waiting._

Everything inside of Rabastan froze.

The Lord. The Dark Lord.

This wasn't just some bizarre triviality that his father wanted done, it was a mission; his first official mission on the path of righteousness. He feverishly grabbed his robes to replace his sleep clothes and almost leapt out the door. Luckily, no one took notice of him as he pushed and shoved his way through the dorm party in the common room still going on. The moment he stepped out into the dungeons, he finally stopped, only to slap himself for his stupidity.

"I don't even know where she is!"

"Who where is?" a voice drawled behind him.

Rabastan snapped in the direction of the voice, but calmed when he saw his common ally, Snape. He almost opened his mouth to ask where Penthesilea stayed, but immediately halted. He'd seen Snape and the girl together, talking in hushed tones in corners or sneaking around to meet each other. It was a well-known fact that they were friends, and some gossips even alleged more.

"Why weren't you at the dorm party?" he asked, ignoring the question.

Snape shrugged listlessly. "Not really my scene."

Rabastan had no argument against that; everyone knew Snape wasn't into the party scene. "Where've you been then?"

Snape obviously didn't like the barrage of questions. "The library. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be heading back to the dorm to get some sleep." Just before Snape vanished however, he turned back, "The blithering buffoons are out tonight. Keep a look out for them."

Rabastan nodded as though it were a useless bit of information, but the second the door to the dorm close he bolted to Filch's office. Everyone knew that the Marauders had a map that had got them around until they lost it. The only place he could think it would possibly be was with Filch. It was the obvious answer.

* * *

><p>Despite her previous exhaustion, once she reached her rooms, Hermione realized that she couldn't sleep, so she left the diadem on her desk and decided to wander around a little. Dodging two prefects who had not been as alert as they should have, and ducking from Filch and Mrs Norris more than once, Hermione acknowledged the fact that she had broken numerous rules already, but couldn't find it in her to care. She'd done worse, and it was for the greater good. She just needed some solace, and she always found that by wandering around and becoming lost in her thoughts. Sometimes a book would suffice, but other times, like now, she couldn't resist the desire to create her own world.<p>

It wasn't even a different world really, more like an alternate reality. She imagined the Potters never dying, Pettigrew being caught, and Sirius and Remus never suffering in solitude. She saw Harry grow up with his loving mother and father; his uncles coming and going in his life, but never far away. She sighed serenely as she pictured herself meeting Lily and James as a young Hermione Granger, but that smile gave way to resentment when she realized there would be no troll to unite them. Hermione had known the sacrifices she would make, but it was still painful.

Feeling exhaustion begin to creep up on her, she turned toward her quarters for some much needed rest, but was interrupted by an unwelcome voice.

"Well, well, well, would you look at who Hermione Granger is?"

Alarmed at being addressed by her Muggle name, Hermione snapped around and aimed her wand, only for it to be magically ripped out of her hand before she could tighten her grip. Now wandless, she suddenly felt very vulnerable, as her attacker was not one to be trifled with.

"What did you call me, Lestrange?"

Rabastan gave a wide smile and slowly approached her, her wand now in his pocket and his own still in hand. Hermione mirrored his movements as he circled her, never exposing her back. He seemed amused by this briefly, before flinging her against the wall with a flick of his wrist and a murmured word. Now Hermione was panicking.

He pressed up against her, grabbing her wrists and holding them above her head, bringing their faces inches from each other, his eyes scanning her face and body as though he were looking for something.

"Where's my fiancée?" he demanded.

For a second, Hermione almost asked what he was on about, until she realized that he thought her an imposter. And while the assumption was correct, it was also incorrect in that both she and Penthesilea were the imposters; not just her masquerading as a Malfoy. This could work to her advantage.

"I don't know what you're talking about." How had he figured it out anyway?

In answer to her unasked question, he held up a familiar piece of parchment that never should have graced his hands. The marauders map shown proudly in his grasp, displaying Rabastan Lestrange and Hermione Granger.

"Shit," Hermione couldn't help but swear.

"The map never lies. At least, that's what it says on the back page. Useful little thing; I just have a hard time believing those idiots came up with it."

Hermione subtly struggled, not too keen of the defenceless position she was in. He noticed and grinned evilly as his grip tightened.

"Feeling uncomfortable, are we? Wait and see how uncomfortable you are when I hand you over to the Malfoy's. I'm sure they'd love to have a go at their child's impersonator."

Hermione knew that Rabastan could not be persuaded or even threatened to help her cause, or at the very least leave her be. She had to act fast and hard to take him down, a near impossible feat without her wand, but she did have one advantage up her sleeve; a surprise attack.

Bringing her knee up, she connected with Rabastan's groin, the shock and pain of which caused him to pull away, releasing her. Taking advantage of this, she shot her fist forward to connect with his nose, and was rewarded by a very satisfying crack. Kicking the back of his knees and forcing him to the ground for good measure, Hermione had barely made it three steps before his hand grabbed her ankle and yanked it towards him, the surprise of it tripping her, resulting in a painful landing on the floor. She gave a shrill scream as her face hit the concrete, but only briefly, as she was turned around quickly and forced to face Rabastan who was now straddling her. Hermione bucked her hips, but was too weak to raise them high enough to do any good. Of course, she never would have attempted it if she had she known the direction his thoughts would turn.

"You're nothing but a Mudblood whore, aren't you?"

Hermione's eyes snapped to his, and were disgusted and horrified by the emotion she identified there.

Lust.

"Trying to tempt me into stopping? Hmmm, I think that can be arranged if you're so desperate."

Her voice suddenly gone; Hermione screamed silently as the realization of what Rabastan planned to do hit her. She felt his grimy hands run down her side, and in response Hermione slapped him across the face. His expression contorted in rage as he slapped her back. She gave a muted yelp and glared at him for the silencing charm.

"We can't have anyone hearing your girlish screams now can we?"

Hermione wriggled and struggled beneath him as one of his hands began pulling at her skirt, while the other pinned her arms in place. But she was using far too much energy and was slowly being drained – of course, she hadn't exactly been full of vigour when this confrontation began either.

As she felt his nails scratch and pinch her inner thighs, Hermione knew without a doubt that he would slowly torture her before taking her. She cringed as his hand crawled higher and felt his mouth meet her exposed neck, leaving painful love bites. In his passionate fervour, his hand abandoned her arms and violently ripped at her shirt, snapping the straps and yanking it to uncover her bra. Arms released, Hermione grabbed the back of his hair and pulled his face off her, enjoying the surprised yelp she received in return. He slapped her again across the face, this time so hard that she tasted blood as it busted her lip. Hermione was amazed to find that she was holding her own against him as she struggled against his attempts to recapture her arms. When she found an opening, Hermione thanked every deity she could think of as she lashed out at his face with her fingers, taking bits of flesh as she rake them down his cheek. He bellowed in pain as he clutched his injured face, before grabbing her head and smashing it against the floor, eliciting a now audible scream from her lips.

The charm had broken.

Upon this realization, Hermione began screaming bloody murder, praying that someone would hear. Another slap was planted across her face, but this time, Hermione wasn't going to just take it. She brought her fingers up to his eyes and dug her nails in to the soft flesh of his eyelids, feeling satisfied at his agonized scream as the flesh protecting his eyes was torn away. When he finally forced her arms away and opened his eyes, Hermione saw that playtime was over, right before he wrapped his hands around her neck and began squeezing the life out of her. She scratched and grasped at his fingers and hands, praying that he'd release her, but his hold only became tighter and tighter until no air reached her brain.

She was briefly aware that the portraits along the corridor wall were screaming.

"Get off of her!"

"Someone send for help!"

"Do you have any honour, boy?!"

"No! Someone help her!"

"Desist immediately!"

"Don't do this!"

"Fight back, girl. FIGHT!"

"Where's the Headmaster?!"

"What's going on here?"

"SOMEBODY HELP HER!"

Just as darkness was greeting her, two bodies slammed into the one above her, knocking him off and wiping the grin off his face. Hermione took a greedy breath of air and immediately put as much distance between herself and her attacker, as someone crouched near her, looking as though they wanted to help her but unsure how to react.

"Silea, look at me!" She did and she was greeted with the worried face of Remus.

"Moony, Wormtail, get her out of here!"

Two sets of arms immediately had a hold of her, lifting her and carrying her away. In the distance, she could hear three sets of voices screaming, and spells being cast, but Hermione couldn't bring herself to care.

Hermione was stone solid in the arms that held her. Even after everything she'd been through, she could still say she'd never been raped. Hermione almost sobbed in relief that the Gods had at least granted her that much.

"It's alright, Silea. We're getting you out of here. You're safe."

"Yeah, don't worry! Padfoot and Prongs'll get him."

They were rushing her somewhere, but to where, Hermione wasn't sure. She could still hear the commotion the portraits were making, asking if she was alright, where they were taking her, and if there was anything they could do, but they were all ignored. Just as they reached the Gryffindor common room, Hermione identified two pairs of feet approaching from behind and instinctively recoiled into Remus' side.

"It's okay; it's just Sirius and James."

Hermione relaxed, knowing she was safe with them. She heard an exchange of words being made, but all she could make out, was the one thing she didn't want to hear.

"He got away."

* * *

><p>Rabastan ran.<p>

He needed to get to the owlery and inform his father that Penthesilea Malfoy had been kidnapped by someone named Hermione Granger, and was impersonating his betrothed by method of polyjuice – most likely. His leg was badly damaged by a cutting hex Black had thrown at him, and his ribs weren't any better with the bone breaking hex Potter threw, but he needed to notify his Lord and his father about the events. They'd rescue him for his vigilant work.

Just as he reached the foot of the owlery steps though, he bumped into someone's chest. He was about to push around them until a walking stick was placed menacingly on his shoulder.

"Going somewhere?"

Rabastan gulped. "What are you doing here?"

The other Slytherin advanced on him.

"When one hears their sister screaming in terror, the brother usually investigates what's wrong."

Rabastan's eyes widened, knowing that Lucius didn't know what he did about Silea being kidnapped.

"Lucius listen to me-"

He was cut off however, as he was hit simultaneously with a silencing spell and a full body bind spell.

* * *

><p>The marauders entered the Gryffindor common room without much trouble with the fat lady. She had already heard about the ordeal and immediately let them in, urging them to clean her up and keep her safe from her attacker. It also appeared that the portraits knew Rabastan had escaped.<p>

They sat her on one of the arm chairs, and she instantly curled into herself.

"Wormtail, get some pumpkin juice. Prongs, get a blanket. Padfoot, look after her for a second," Remus ordered.

They all disappeared immediately to collect their required items.

Sirius rested a comforting arm on Hermione's shoulder and was surprised when she didn't flinch. In fact, she seemed to lean into the contact. He assumed it was simply because he was one of her rescuers. A growl escaped as that bastard's face entered his mind; if he ever got his hands on him…

But he stamped down his anger and stayed by Hermione's side, gently rubbing her slightly exposed shoulder; neither seeming to find it indecent.

The girl was almost molested, and now seemed to feel comfortable with the man who had emotionally tortured her for months. _Women_, Sirius scoffed, not understanding them.

Remus reappeared first, carrying a chocolate bar, obviously from his own stash upstairs. "Eat this; it'll make you feel better."

She did so without out question, and nibbled on it until it was gone.

Peter, who was flushed and stammering, returned next, apologizing for taking so long, as he'd tripped and spilt the first glass, resulting in him having to get another. But Hermione turned her head, not wanting to drink anything Pettigrew gave her.

Remus rubbed her arm, gently urging her. "It'll take the edge off."

The Gryffindor girl nodded and drank it full.

James then appeared with his own bed sheet, throwing it around her shoulders, but she made no move to fully cover herself.

"What is she doing here?!"

Lily appeared at the top of the stairs, obviously awoken by the noise they hadn't bothered hiding in their panic.

"She was in trouble."

Lily saw the blood that stained Hermione's fingers and the blotches of blood over her face and she gasped. "What has she done?" she asked accusingly.

"She was attacked by Lestrange; she had fought back-"James was cut off.

"And you brought her here?"

"LILY, LISTEN TO YOURSELF!" Sirius roared, forcing the redhead to flinch into silence. "Take a closer look at her."

Lily's eyes involuntarily scanned over the time traveller's body, and her breath caught. Beneath the bed sheet she'd identified as James', the black haired girl's arms were wrapped protectively across her breasts, covering herself whilst simultaneously holding her top up because the straps were snapped. Her skirt was dishevelled and had tears at the bottom, as though someone had clawed at the hemline. Her inner thighs that were visible to Lily's eyes were covered in scratches and newly formed bruises, and Lily noticed the girl's conscious action to cross her ankles to hide her delicate flesh. Her hair, which was usually so vibrant and full of volume, was messy and brittle. But the most noticeable feature was her bloodshot and dark rimmed eyes.

"Dear Merlin, what happened to her?"

"Lestrange attacked her; if you had bothered to listen you would have already known that," Remus snapped, spitting more venom at the girl then he'd ever done before.

Lily suddenly felt guilty. "We need to take her to Madam Pomfrey."

The boys all paused in their scurrying fervour and hesitated.

"She hates the hospital wing though."

"That doesn't matter right now! She needs attention, and not the sort that we can give her. Madam Pomfrey will know what to do."

Just as the group rushed forward and lifted her off of the ground to take her to the infirmary, the door opened, revealing a very distressed Professor McGonagall, who had obviously been summoned by the portraits and had followed the trail of blood.

"What is going on here?"

* * *

><p>Malfoy Jr. wasted no time in tossing the fool to the floor and releasing him from his hexes. They stood in the forbidden forest, silent except for the sounds of the dangerous creatures lurking about.<p>

"Lucius… I can explain-"

The blonde Malfoy raised his hand to silence him. "Your excuses are useless to me."

"I swear, the bitch deserved it, she an imposter, she's not your sis-"

Inaudibly, Lucius cast an Avada Kedavra and Rabastan Lestrange was dead.

"You were never worthy to so much as breathe the same air she did, let alone touch her."

Remorselessly, he snapped Rabastan's wand in two and walked away from the corpse, throwing the wooden pieces in his wake. As he vanished into the darkness, the giant spiders appeared, grateful for their tiny feast.

Now he needed to send an anonymous letter to Lestrange Sr.

But no one else needed to know that he was dead.

* * *

><p>The Dark Lord read the parchment with mixed emotions.<p>

"Your son is dead."

Lestrange Sr. was already of failing health, and the news of his son's death could just end his life and his services, or so Voldemort hoped.

The man took the news with some surprise, but held himself together well. Voldemort had expected no less.

"Leave me."

When the room was finally emptied, Voldemort re-read the letter and found he was vastly curious. He'd sent the Lestrange boy to test how powerful the Malfoy girl was, and he now knew she was far more powerful than she let on – killing a Lestrange no less.

He smiled wickedly and gave a hollow laugh; she was definitely Death Eater material.

**A/N: Sorry for the late update but I hope it was worth the wait! I had no internet for about three to four weeks and during that time I was too busy with exams, work and moving to write but I'm finished with that now – even had my graduation dinner last night :D I'm also going away tomorrow for a much needed (and in my eyes much deserved) holiday so the next chapter won't be at least until I'm back!**

**Have A Good One!**

**XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXo**


	14. Shut Up, Fredrickson

The marauders were sitting in their dorm room, gazing into the fire. They weren't sure whether they were in shock over the events that had happened, or simply too exhausted to be useful. Lily had gone back to bed hours ago, but the boys were still unable to sleep. James' bed sheet, now stained in blood, sweat and tears, was discarded on the floor by the door, but no one made any effort to pick it up.

"Should we check again?" Remus asked; his voice full of fatigue.

After their head of house had left with the injured female Malfoy, the boys had once again searched the castle for Lestrange. But when he was still no were to be found, and after a particularly close call from Filch and Mrs Norris, they decided it was best to head to bed.

"Best not risk it, Moony. If we haven't found him yet, he's probably slithered somewhere we can't find him," James told him. Silence once again filled the room when none of the boys could refute the statement.

Even with the dark circles under his eyes, screaming his need for a hearty rest, Peter fiddled with his thumbs, too abashed to admit his exhaustion. What would everyone think of him? Remus hung his head in sadness as the scene played over and over in his mind. He wished his canine senses had heard the scuffle and screams earlier, maybe then Silea could have been spared from such trauma. James was simply lost in his jumbled mind. Everything he knew about pureblood loyalty had just been shattered before his eyes in a single night. Before Lestrange's attack, he was resolute in his belief that purebloods would never hurt one another unless provoked. He originally thought that maybe she had, but with what he knew about the Malfoy girl, he could think of nothing that would drive a man to so violently attempt - _that_ on her. The thought made him shiver in disgust and worry. Sirius, on the other hand, was strangely eager to sneak out of the common room and see Silea. He was worried for her, and wasn't afraid or ashamed to admit it. Nobody deserved such treatment, and he knew any sane man would agree wholeheartedly. His heart ached for her.

Remus cleared his throat. "Maybe we've been too harsh on her."

"She lied to us about who she really was from day one, "James scoffed, running a hand stressfully through his messy hair.

"We've already decided that was a misunderstanding, Prongs. She can't be held responsible for that."

"And I wouldn't exactly want to be revealed as a Malfoy either," Sirius groaned, feeling guilty over how quickly his beginning kindness toward her had switched to cruelty.

"So, we have no reason to be nasty to her," Remus justified.

"But let's not forget that she turned a wall into a door, walked through it, and vanished," Sirius reminded them.

"I'll admit she has moments that are suspicious, but she needs our help," the werewolf defended.

"If even you think she's suspicious Moony, than we aren't being paranoid."

"But she's nice…" came Peter's timid, but honest voice.

"She's never said a word to you Peter," Prongs and Padfoot snickered.

The rat reddened slightly, "Doesn't mean I haven't seen her around. She might not be sociable, but she's not evil."

"Wormtail, she's a Malfoy, believes in pureblood supremacy, and is a potential Death Eater."

"Technically," Peter started, voice stronger than before, "being a Malfoy isn't a bad thing. Believing that purebloods are superior is imbedded in them from birth, but I've never actually seen her act cruelly to anyone because of their blood. And when it comes to being a potential Death Eater, I'm sure there are dozens that believe the same about you."

Sirius' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"He's got a point, mate," James agreed cautiously. "Despite her aloof attitude, I don't think it's because she thinks we're blood traitors."

Sirius sighed and pinched his nose, suddenly remembering the conversation he had with her on the Quidditch pitch. "No, it's because we were prats to her first."

"Have you ever thought maybe we were wrong about her?"

"Maybe, but I just won't believe it until I have some solid evidence Mooney."

"What evidence, James?" he asked suspiciously.

James and Sirius exchanged a guilty look.

"What have you two done?!" Remus yelled in a deadly tone.

"Nothing, we swear!" they both shouted, but Sirius continued bitterly, "You should see what Snivellus did to Georgie though."

Peter looked confused. "What happened to Georgiana?"

Sirius and James looked at each other almost annoyed by their friends' lack of information.

* * *

><p><strong>1998<strong>

_Laughter filled the streets as three teenagers walked out the theatre singing loudly, and very off key, to a song they had heard in the movie they had just seen._

_Hermione smiled widely as Ronald suddenly collapsed to his knees in front of her, his eyes wide and entranced. Harry was behind them, doubled over in his attempt to regain his breath. _

_Ron grasped her hand and placed a gentle kiss upon it. "My siren, my heart has been pierced by cupid, I do indeed disdain all glittering gold, and nothing can console me but my lovely sea siren."_

_His singing voice was by no means horrible, but the lyrics, motions, and overall rhythm forced laughter out the pair's mouths, until Harry finally followed suit and kneeled beside Ron, head bowed rather than gazing up at her._

"_My hearts been pierced by cupid, I could give you any gold, and I would console you, 'cause I'm the chosen one." _

_They laughed at the seriousness on Harry's face, which was now gazing at Hermione with something akin to love – obviously picturing Ginny to make his performance seem more legitimate. _

_Hermione was glad, even if it was momentary, that they could laugh and joke and play with Harry's title, and not suddenly become encumbered with the weight the reality would bring. _

_Ron suddenly gave an indignant shout and ripped a small stick off of a nearby tree._

"_The siren is mine, pathetic one! Have at thee!"_

_Harry made a look of disgust, as any good lord would display at any commoner. _

"_You think that you could take on me – Captain Jack Sparrow?" He was suddenly swaying and took a swing from an imaginary bottle of rum before frowning disappointedly. "Why is the rum always gone?"_

_Ron raised an eyebrow, not understanding the ongoing gag in the franchise, but shrugged it off and replied in a very pathetic pirate accent, "Prepare to meet thy doom, fiend!"_

_Harry tapped his chin as though contemplating. "Well, the rum _is_ gone." He shrugged, "Why not?"_

_Ron charged with his puny stick, only to be repelled away by a weak protection spell Harry had cast. _

"_That's cheating! No magic!"_

"_I didn't agree to those terms."_

_Thus, an epic stick fight began, which had Hermione laughing so hard, she was struggling not to spit out her already eaten popcorn. It didn't help that Ron screamed when the stick scraped his arm. They parried and lunged, but always jumped away like little girls whenever the stick drew too close to them. It finally concluded when Harry jabbed Ron in the stomach, prompting him into a dramatic death._

_He fell slowly, one arm clutching his 'wound', while the other was held skyward, as though cursing the heavens. His face turned towards Hermione, whose face was now red from lack of oxygen, and whispered, "My siren…" before falling dead, tongue hanging out and all. _

_Harry, wasting no time, fell back into character and knelt before her. _

"My_ siren," he declared possessively. _

_Hermione smiled and sang back to him happily, "__My heart was pierced by cupid. I disdain all glittering gold. There's nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold."_

_When she was finished, Ron had stood up, and a spectacular monologue was performed, claiming that her voice, love and anguish brought him back. _

_Not even Hermione could resist the temptation to roll her eyes._

_Realising how late it was and how tired they were, Hermione took their hands and headed back to Grimauld Place, only to stand sombrely in the living room once they arrived, as none of them wanted to admit that the fun was over and that they now had returned to the dangerous world of their reality. _

_Unsure of whether she expected an inspirational speech or a small request, Hermione waited for Harry to say something, only to be surprised when it was Ron that spoke. "We are so going to have to learn all the words to that song."_

_It became a common tune around the house, sometimes sung, other times danced or performed. But it was always there and never failed to bring back memories and desires of what could be._

* * *

><p>Hermione came to a conclusion just as dawn was breaking. If there was one thing she <em>really<em> couldn't stand, it was when people spoke about her like she wasn't in the room, and treating her as though she were weak.

Hermione was _not_ weak.

But as professor McGonagall, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey floundered around her bed, whispering softly, yet by no means discreetly, Hermione was tempted to whack them all across the head.

Yes, she had just been through a horrible experience. Yes, it had been traumatic. Yes, it might affect her for a while. But there was no way on this God forsaken earth that she was going to let that stop her mission.

If anything, it made her even more determined. Filth like Rabastan deserved to be locked away forever in Azkaban.

From what little she had gathered though, Rabastan had yet to be located; which in no way surprised her. Her parents had been notified and were on their way, Lily had given a report on what she knew of the situation, and other than some scratches, bruises and bites, she was fine physically and would have no long term damage.

Her relief was short lived however, when she noticed Georgiana Fredrickson in the bed across the room from her. Gauging her facial expression, the Gryffindor knew exactly what was going on, which only served to make Hermione uncomfortable.

McGonagall had been extremely gentle with Hermione, being very considerate and trying her hardest to not remind the girl of her painful experience. Judging by her ridged nerves, tense posture and clipped but unsure tones, Hermione was led to believe that this was the first time her beloved professor had to deal with such an ordeal.

Madam Pomfrey had taken one look at the girl and her face had hardened quicker than molten gold and she fluttered over. She didn't ask what had occurred, but the relief she felt when she found that it had only been an attempt was clear as day to any that would take notice.

Dumbledore had sat down on the bed with her and spoke in soothing tones, trying his best to be his jolly old self. But the twinkle that gleamed so brightly in his eyes so often was absent. He had patted her hand and been as grandfatherly as he could without crossing the bounds of propriety. Hermione wanted desperately to just collapse into his arms and sob into his robes, but she knew she had to be strong – Luna's words haunting her over and over;

_You'll have to be very strong. No use if your Gryffindor courage fails you._

Hermione knew without a doubt that she was right. Disgusted with herself by behaving like a little girl, Hermione reigned in her emotions. She refused to let her courage fail her.

But a malicious voice rang through her head laughing maniacally,

_It will_.

As the three adults huddled in the corner of the room, quietly whispering in tones she couldn't hear, Hermione slowly began humming the song that seemed forever stuck in her head, the events of the theatre with Harry and Ron ingrained heavily in her mind. She hummed softly at first, slowly building louder and louder unaware of her curious audience.

"I know that melody," Georgiana stated, stopping Hermione's singing.

"You wouldn't know it," Hermione told her truthfully, "it's a song between my friends and me."

Fredrickson scowled and glared at her. "Don't presume to tell me what I do and do not know. I am certain I've heard that tune before, I just don't know where!" she finished frustrated.

Hermione shrugged off her bed neighbours attitude, perhaps even her momentary lapse of sanity, and continued singing.

"I know that melody," the blonde insisted.

"Sure you do, Fredrickson."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

Hermione was almost grateful for her. But then, of course, as fate simply must have hated her, the Malfoy seniors walked in looking none too happy.

Fantastic… just what she needed to top off her day.

* * *

><p>"Do I really have to come?" James moped as he followed the three boys.<p>

The chocoholic glared at him, "Yes, we're going to make sure she's alright."

James continued to grumble, but offered no more complaints as he followed his friends to the infirmary. He had absolutely no desire to see her. Admittedly he felt bad by the attempted… _rape,_ but that didn't mean he was happy about skipping breakfast to see her. For Merlin's sake, he'd had a conversation with her once and then openly harassed her.

In his own sulking reverie, James did not notice the abrupt stop of his friends, and ran into Wormtail causing a domino effect, bumping into Remus.

"Knock it off, Prongs."

"Tell that to the idiot at the front."

Looking at Remus, James was suddenly aware of how quiet he became and how his face turned to steel. Inching forward to glance through the double doors of the hospital wing, he could only see Georgie gazing intently ahead of her, as he had no view of the other side of the room. Judging by the werewolf's face though, something was up.

"Hey, it's Georgiana!" Peter exclaimed loudly.

Three pairs of hands slapped over his mouth with multiple 'shhhs', telling him none too politely to _shut up_.

"What is it Remus?" Sirius queried.

Remus remained silent and slowly crept forward, prompting the others to follow with a vague hand gesture. They moved forward and leaned inconspicuously past the doorframe, affording them a full view of the situation. And the familiar faces of Mr and Mrs Malfoy, two people James had never been able to stand.

He was briefly shocked by the stark contrast between them and their daughter. But what took precedence, was the defiant look on Silea's face, and the exasperated looks on her parents'.

"Not happening," the girl stressed.

Neptune had other ideas. "Silea, you do not have a say in the matter. It has already been decided-"

"I do not ever remember partaking in this decision," she spat back.

James glanced at his fellow marauders and noticed they too were deeply engrossed and equally confused. What was going on?

The older woman's eyes narrowed dangerously. "This attitude of yours has gone on long enough. You will do as your father and I tell you and that's final! End of discussion!"

Silea straightened herself as much as she could in her bed, as glared at the woman with nothing but disgust.

"Gaining a backbone is different than an attitude. And after everything he's done, you would still have me marry that monster."

James heard rather than saw everyone suck in a shocked gasp and tense up, before exchanging horrified looks. They all knew that sometimes Pureblood families went to the extreme to find the 'best' match possible to ensure perfect blood, but not even Sirius could imagine his family cursing each other with such a dreadful spouse. They watched each other's backs and ensured no harm came to each other, as long as the followed the rules. Very few were so cruel as to force such condemnation. Even Bella got to choose her husband.

"I won't marry him."

It was Abraxas' turn to huff in frustration. "You've no choice girl, the contract is clear. You must marry him, or as a consequence, give up any future pure blood suitors," he told her, knowing the decision was the simplest in the world.

"Fine then," the time traveller growled, "I void the contract here and now. The engagement between Penthesilea Malfoy and Rabastan LeStrange is henceforth invalid."

James was fairly certain his face resembled that of the Malfoys themselves.

Neptune stuttered. "You can't do that, Silea. You would lose everything."

"Don't be stubborn now. He is the only pure blood candidate you will have daughter."

James swore that the youngest Malfoy was boring into the cores of her parents' beings when her eyes hardened. "I'd rather marry the filthiest Mudblood in the world than be condemned to the life of one of _you_," she spat.

Silence filled the air.

James couldn't even imagine how his face read at that moment. If the look of astonishment on Sirius's face was anything to go by, it was as if they had just witnessed the impossible occur in front of them. He could almost hear Remus screaming 'you go girl' through the smug expression he wore, making it a little disturbing. Even Peter seemed pleased by her words, despite the look of surprise he wore.

"Daughter, is this because of being sorted into Gryffindor? That's easily remedied."

The young woman rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "What is it with everyone thinking I don't want to be in Gryffindor? I want to be there! I don't want to be with the pureblood supremacists in Slytherin, I want to be with the open minded Gryffindors! At least they are right in believing everyone is equal no matter their blood."

"Silea," Neptune reached for her daughter's hand, only to have it jerked away as she glared at her mother, "we can't accept this. These are the words of a blood traitor. Withdraw them and nothing else needs to be said, we can overlook this entirely."

Silea's face showed nothing but disbelief. "Then I guess that makes me a blood traitor."

James had never heard such a deafening silence before. He could swear that their thundering heartbeats were drumming in his ears, echoing her words again and again.

The elder Malfoy's gave no acknowledgment of the boys' presence as they left moments later without a word. The marauders were left standing in the doorway, stock still and unsure of what to do or say.

It was Sirius who broke the silence, "I need to think."

Without any prompting, and feeling the desire themselves, the remaining marauders followed.

The stag heard one more interaction before he left earshot.

"Wow, tough break."

"Shut up, Fredrickson."

He now knew without a doubt, that they'd judged her _far_ too harshly.

**A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for the long delay but things were hectic (when aren't they?) and they still are but hopefully I'll be able to dedicate more time to writing. **


	15. It's Not Just A Swamp

When Hermione left the hospital wing the next day, the first thing she did was return the Marauders' Map to Filch's office. Fred and George had to find it when they came to Hogwarts, and as much as it would be useful to her, the Map needed to stay safe. It was better off collecting dust there than adventuring with her. Besides, she couldn't take another chance of someone else discovering her real identity by it. After all, the map never lies.

She hadn't attended any of her classes today, and although that pained her, she couldn't stand the looks everyone had been directing at her. News travelled fast, and despite hopes of the event being contained, the portraits loved to gossip.

In other words…everyone knew.

Some looked at her with pity, others with horror written all over their faces. Most couldn't look at her at all, either in disgust or due to the sick feeling in their stomachs for what almost happened; or in some versions of the story...did.

Oh yes, the pureblood supremacists had discovered that she had cast off her name, so therefore, the entire incident was her fault. Nothing would be gained from siding with her now.

So far she had dodged most of her classmates. And that was only because she hadn't returned to her private rooms yet, because she knew that would be the first place they looked.

She briefly saw Severus and he was visibly green. He had opened his mouth and shut it again before finally apologising. Apparently, he'd seen Rabastan the night before, but had let him go. He swore he wouldn't have allowed her out of his sight, had he suspected Rabastan was onto her. She told him it didn't matter and what was done was done, but he still cowered away from her and retreated to deal with his self-inflicted guilt on his own.

So here she was, wondering around the corridors waiting for the day to finish. There were so many other productive things she could have done during this time, but she simply didn't have the heart for it. She needed one day on her own. The effects of the potions Luna had given her were wearing off finally, which meant that the weariness she felt was more emotional than physical. The memory of Rabastan's hands crawling over her had haunted her sleep and slipped into her conscious thoughts.

It had been an idiotic move on her part the other night when she had cast her parents off. She still needed them, as they were integral to her plan. But when they told her that she would still be expected to marry Rabastan, something inside of her had snapped. And considering the estimated length of her stay, she probably would have had to go through with the wedding.

She tried to convince them otherwise…because how could two parents be so cruel as to leave their precious daughter's care to such a monster? But when it had become clear that her words were falling on deaf ears, she had reacted.

Dear Merlin, how she missed her real parents! Helen and Robert were the best parents a girl could dream of. There was no way they would ever have let her be trapped by such a man, let alone throw her at him themselves.

Luckily Penthesilea wasn't a real person, because Hermione wouldn't wish that fate on anyone.

Pulled from her thoughts by an abundance of loud and jovial laughing further down the corridor, she froze. The abruptly cut off laughter at the sight of her would be too much, and to be honest, she really didn't want to deal with anyone right now. So she did what anyone would do and slipped into the nearest classroom unnoticed.

Before she could breathe a sigh of relief however, she was confronted with a shelf of a variety of paint brushes and palettes...not to mention a very intense sense of Deja vu. Looking across the room only confirmed that she had walked into a familiar situation.

And just like the last time, there he was with his dark hair tied back, and paint smudged all over his fingers. She couldn't truly see what he was painting from behind him, but with what little she knew of him, Hermione was sure that it had something to do with his friends.

She watched in fascination as the perspiration she could see beading on his skin; either from the humidity or his intense concentration, highlighted his shoulder blades and the muscles on his back as they flexed with each stroke of his arms. She couldn't doubt that he was a beautiful specimen of a human being.

Hermione flushed slightly at the sudden thought and shook her head frantically. She couldn't entertain such thoughts. But despite her resolve she found she still couldn't quite help herself.

A part of her screamed out to turn around and leave; she had no reason for being there. She was supposed to befriend Lily or James, preferably both, but it seemed to always be Sirius that she encountered. Ignoring her instinct to run, she slowly approached him, her light footfalls just loud enough to alert him that he wasn't alone.

He spun around, mouth half open as though about to yell, but closed it quickly at the sight of her. An uncomfortable silence flooded the air between them as neither knew what to say. But at least he wasn't screaming at her this time, even though the expression in his eyes convinced her otherwise. She really hoped she didn't faint this time.

His mouth opened and shut, bobbing a bit like a fish, as he searched for the right thing to say.

"How're you?" were the words he settled on.

Hermione couldn't help the choked snort that escaped her lips.

Sirius bowed his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, stupid question."

She shrugged, "There're worse things to say."

The awkwardness only became more pronounced as each second passed.

After a few minutes, Sirius finally sighed and leaned against one of the desks, taking the tie out of his hair and roughly shaking it a few times. He then pulled something out of his pocket that disgusted Hermione immediately.

"Cigarettes? At school?" she glared at him reproachfully.

Fag hanging from his lips, and lighter brought halfway up, he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Does the smoke affect your health condition?"

"Well, no, but…"

Her words were moot as he sparked the lighter and ignited the cigarette.

"Then you'll live," he mumbled between the fag in his mouth.

Hermione bristled, _how dare he?_!

"If you want to kill yourself slowly with that death-stick then by all means go ahead, but don't do it at school! There are rules. And besides that, it's completely inconsiderate towards the other students."

He stared at her blankly, a face she'd seen often in classes when he was pretending to pay attention. This only made her bubble with fury.

"You! I can't believe…this is…I just can't…Grrrr!" Hermione growled in frustration at her inability to speak. She was experienced in berating Harry, Ronald and Neville; not to mention the bloody Weasley twins, and here she was, struck silent. She'd never even caught Fred and George _smoking _in school.

She was shocked out of her own thoughts by Sirius' laugh. Just as in the future, it was similar to a dog barking, and the time traveller was momentarily stunned by the familiarity of it. He just looked at her and grinned.

"Not used to people not doing what you tell 'em to are you?"

Hermione's face grew red; from anger or embarrassment she wasn't sure… probably both. "How dare you? What gives you the right to speak to me like that?!"

"The same right you have telling people off in that know it all tone of yours," he retorted. But then he stopped grinning and looked her dead in the eyes, "Would you rather I treat you like everyone else is?"

The comment left Hermione's mind reeling, but her answer was clear. Would she rather Sirius look at her with pity, treat her like she was a scarred little girl? Or even with disgust?

"No," she told him aloud.

He nodded as though he expected as much. He took the half smoked fag from his lips and snuffed it out on a conjured ashtray before vanishing both. She wondered briefly if he got rid of it out of consideration for her, but before she could ask, he put his hair back up and turned back to his painting. Curious, she walked up next to him to see the painting she assumed would be of his friends.

How wrong she was.

It was a swamp. Quite unattractive to look at really, despite the obvious talent of the artist. Her forehead crinkled as she studied it, wondering if it held any significance to him. To her it looked like a muddy little swamp; one that would be far away from anywhere because of its hideousness.

"Why a swamp?" she asked.

His lips twitched upwards. "It's not _just a swamp_."

"It's unsightly."

"That's the point."

She sighed in annoyance, "What's the importance of it?"

He shrugged, "I used to go there as a child."

"…to a swamp?"

"I prefer marsh, actually."

"Fine, a marsh then."

"What about it?"

"Are you deliberately trying to irritate me?"

"I don't know. Is it working?"

"Urgh! You are infuriating."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Hermione barely had the heart to kick up a fuss anymore, at seeing his eyes bright with mirth. Still, she bemoaned the lack of knowledge and story behind the painting and pouted slightly.

He seemed to take note of it and sighed a little.

"It was near one of our holiday houses in England. A muddy little place that we didn't visit often, but I loved it."

Hermione sat down in one of the chairs, watching him admire the painting.

"What made you love it so?"

He sighed wistfully, "It was lonesome."

"Lonesome?"

"Just like me."

It was a powerful picture. One that Hermione could easily paint in her head with as much graphic detail as Sirius could depict on canvas. A solitary boy stumbling across a swa…marsh all on his lonesome and befriending it. What was it about that muddy little place that Sirius had found such a kindred soul in? They were both alone yes, in their own separate ways, but what was it that made it affect Sirius so?

"It's still unsightly."

He chuckled, "So you've said."

"What did you find so horrid about yourself?"

Sirius seemed surprised by her question, and looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. His eyes were searching, for what she didn't know, but he must have found it, because he continued on in the most earnest tone she'd ever heard.

"I was nine," he began, "_my mother_," he spat venomously, "had taken me to her dear friend's house to introduce me into the '_real world' _that we lived in. I remember walking into the manor and hearing nothing but screams. I actually trembled in that _woman's_ arms and asked her what was happening. She smiled at me and ushered me into the ball room, and there was blood _everywhere_. I stepped on clothes drenched in it, I slipped on the smooth wet floors, and I gagged at the smell that saturated the air. I was horrified…disgusted by what my mother believed was the real world."

The Malfoy imposter stared at him sickened by what she was hearing, knowing without a doubt that it was true.

"I ran the first chance I could, from my mother, from that small little holiday home that I had loved so much, and just…ran. Eventually I tripped on the slippery ground and landed in a sodden bog, almost vomiting at the smell. I'm sure you've caught on to the similarities by now. That marsh reminded me of myself, of my life, of what I was doomed to become."

He suddenly spun around to look her dead in the eye. "The significance of _that 'swamp'_ is that it was that moment I realised I wasn't doomed at all and I didn't need to be."

Hermione met his eyes straight on and saw the misery that he concealed so well behind mocking words and barking laughter. It was the same pain she often wore herself when she was at her lowest. She may be able to save him from Azkaban, but no one would ever save him from that trauma he should never have had to experience.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione choked slightly.

He smiled widely, the pain behind his eyes gone. "Don't be, I am who I am today because they did that to me."

Hermione didn't like the sudden change in mood, the lightness in which he tried to turn the situation. She found she couldn't bear the thought of Sirius ever trying to hide what he felt or what he thought…it just wasn't Sirius.

"And you should be proud of who you are today. I know I am," she told him earnestly, thinking of not only the Sirius she knew in the future, but the one that stood before her now with his air of strength, courage and righteousness, despite the pain he had needlessly endured.

His eyes widened in shook and his lips parted slightly. While visibly stunned by her response, he also seemed very touched when he turned away, unable to look her in the eyes. A few long moments passed before he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair again, taking out the hair tie at the same time.

"When did you realise your family were monsters?" he asked her.

Hermione froze, something Sirius was quick to catch. His body tensed up in response before adding, "Considering how often you were stuck at home as a child, I'm assuming you witnessed a lot."

The time traveller felt tears prick at her eyes at the thought of what pureblood families had done to her and her friends. She nodded her head slightly, too scared to voice anything in fear of giving something away that made her suspicious. But she was suddenly too overwhelmed by his story and by her own experiences to hold herself back.

"I've seen things," she admitted shakily, her voice barely above a whisper.

Silence filled the room as he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he scooted closer to her on the desk they sat on, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Hermione stared at him in surprise from the contact, only to find a soft, warm and encouraging expression in his eyes; three things she hadn't seen in so long.

"Please tell me, Silea."

Instead of throwing up her walls like expected, the use of her pseudonym's nickname relaxed her strangely enough, so she decided she would tell him what scarred her most, in as vague detail as she could.

She needed this.

"One time, strangers were brought into the manor; suspected blood traitors, a…'mudblood' and a few others that were simply odd in the eyes of purebloods. All were innocent of any crimes that might have been laid on them, but they were accused of things that were ridiculous. My parents and their friends, all they wanted was to hurt people, and they had been raised to hate those that were different than them, or not pure; to treat them like _filth_. They tortured the muggle-born for what sounded like hours. Her screams echoed through the halls, but I barely heard all of it. I felt the pain of every cut, every curse, and every slap with an aching clarity. I stared at them, the people in the room that just looked on, and I couldn't recognise anything human in a single one of them. The torturer, she relished in it. But the others...the ones that just watched...they were no better. That was the first time I ever truly saw pure evil."

Sirius nodded his head in agreement, his hand still resting on her shoulder, rubbing it soothingly in support.

"How old were you?"

Hermione gave a dark laugh, "You know, it feels like ages ago, but it was honestly a very late realisation. I had known that they were bad for years, that they did horrible unforgivable things, but I still naively believed that everyone had the capacity for good, no matter how little. That belief died that day."

For once, a comfortable silence reigned between them as neither felt that anymore needed to be said. At least that was what Hermione thought until the painter spoke.

"You have a good heart, Silea."

"Excuse me?" she asked, honestly stunned by his observation.

He looked pained, "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?"

He sighed heavily, "I turned into the very thing I hated so much. I judged you wrongly and harshly, and I sincerely hope that you can forgive me. I became ugly in your eyes due to my actions, and I see now what I didn't see before."

"What is that?" she inquired curiously.

"You're probably the only other one of 'my kind' around." His voice was laced with a seriousness that made her bones tremble.

For a moment she was confused, but then she recalled their argument in the halls where he had called her a pureblood bigot and she defended herself saying that she was the same as him.

She laughed slightly and gave and smirked. "It's taken you that long to figure out?"

He scoffed, puffing up his chest slightly, "No, I've always known. I just needed to see how Gryffindor you really were."

She snorted audibly, "Of course."

"It's true!"

"Really? Did I pass your test then?"

A mischievous look crossed his face. "You let me give you that flying lesson and you can consider yourself a true Gryffindor." Hermione visibly paled and Sirius sniggered. "Not so Gryffindor after all…"

The bell suddenly chimed and startled the both of them. The two looked at each other and a solemn mood fell over them. Sirius slowly started packing up his arts supplies as Hermione stayed seated, twiddling her fingers nervously. When he was finally finished, the wizard asked what was troubling her.

"When we walk out that door, it's going to be exactly as it was before, isn't it?"

Sirius paused, "do you want us to go back to the way we were?"

A part of Hermione screamed yes, but another louder and more persistent part disagreed.

"No."

"Then it doesn't have to."

She gave him an unconvinced look, one that seemed to offend him slightly.

"Hey, don't doubt me."

"How can I not, when you've given me no reason to?"

The silence was uncomfortable again as Sirius came to stand before her, staring intently into her eyes. "I'll prove it to you."

She raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Really? How?"

He shrugged, "I'll think of something. But I've decided that you have to prove something to me too."

"And what would that be?"

He gave her a stern look. "Go out there, walk the corridors with your head held high, get to class, and show the whole school that you are a Gryffindor, instead of slinking down the halls like a Slytherin."

Hermione gulped, but nodded. Wordlessly, she stood and stepped outside the room, not glancing to see if Sirius was following her, as she already suspected he was.

The corridors were already crowded, and the second she walked out of the classroom, the cacophony of noise that came with students talking over one another slowly hushed. The stares burned into the back of her neck as she held her head up, looked straight ahead, and made her way towards her next class. She set her jaw against the harsh whispers working their way through the crowd; the Slytherins being the most vocally unpleasant on the matter.

From the corner of her eye, she briefly saw Severus and Barty harshly shushing them, while Lucius stood silently next to them, neither in support nor against their actions.

"She's not even worth being Rabastan's _whore_ let alone his _wife_."

Hermione swallowed tears of despair.

_What was wrong with the world?_

"I'm surprised she's showing herself," a surprising voice commented; it was Lily. Her tone wasn't unkind, but wasn't friendly either. She almost seemed unsure what to think.

Georgiana Fredrickson stood next to her and shrugged her shoulders in a 'what can you do fashion' and made a snide comment. "Who cares?"

"We should," a loud voice bellowed.

Everyone, including Hermione, paused to turn and see who'd spoken.

It was Sirius, and he was standing right in front of Lily and Georgiana.

"Black?"

"Sirius?" They both questioned, visibly stunned not only by his sudden appearance, but at what almost sounded like a defence towards the bigoted female Malfoy.

"She doesn't deserve your treatment of her. She's a human being for Merlin's sake, and a bloody talented witch. She's never done a thing out of turn to you, me or anyone in our, or any house. She's not the bigot, you two are."

Everyone was watching the three of them in wonderment. Sirius Black was yelling…no, scolding, Lily Evans and Georgiana Fredrickson, in defence of someone he himself had treated poorly.

He walked the short way to Hermione and hung his arm loosely around her shoulder in a slightly protective manner. "This girl is a Gryffindor, and she's to be treated like any other Gryffindor. If she was anyone else, a war would have erupted between the lions and snakes, but no, you join forces against her."

No one was quite sure who was more surprised…Lily, Georgie, Silea or the witnessing students.

He suddenly smiled in a predatory manner, a dog like grin that had Hermione fearful of being on the receiving end. "If I hear another word against her, I will ensure the rest of your time in Hogwarts will be long, arduous and downright abysmal."

The threat sounded down the corridors as the rest of the Marauders; whom had just arrived, stared at their friend in shock.

"As you were!" he shouted cheerfully, before turning to the stunned witch and murmuring, "How's that for proof," then releasing her shoulders and sauntering down the corridors to his next class.

Everyone else however, was left stunned, wondering what the hell had just happened.

* * *

><p>Voldemort could attest to the fact that he was very rarely ever intrigued by anything other than the wealth of knowledge. But this girl, Penthesilea Malfoy, was proving to be absolutely fascinating. He first observed her wondering around Knockturn alley, presumably buying illegal ingredients andor objects. She tried to hide who she was, and was obviously up to no good. When he had sent the LeStrange boy to test the girl, he hadn't expected how far he would try to go. He would have crucio'd him for not even having the competency to follow one simple order, but that girl, commonly known as Silea, had killed him. She'd taken him into the woods, bound him, snapped his wand and Avada Kedavra'd him easily. He had been squirming in his seat with glee remembering when he had been informed. She would make a fine addition, and if she had loyalty on par with Bellatrix Lestrange, she would be immensely invaluable.

But then she had gone and renounced her family.

That piece of knowledge did not fit with what he knew about her. A girl who acted sickly to hide her true nature as she did, couldn't be anything less than dangerous. Everyone around her was hoodwinked; even her own parents were fooled.

It had been a long time since he had stumbled upon someone quite like himself, but never at her calibre.

Oh, yes. He would be watching Penthesilea Malfoy closely.

**A/N: Ahh, the moment everyone's been waiting for – the truce between Sirius and Silea. I quite like how it turned out, if a bit abrupt but I have a feeling that is how their relationship would be – unpredictable. I'm so sorry for my long absence and for the relatively short chapter but it's not just this story that's affected it's all of them! I will try to do more soon but no promises! **

**Also a special thanks to my fantastic beta for sticking through thick and thin to get this chapter out :D You're a legend!**

**Have A Good One!**

**XoXoXoXoXoXoXo**


	16. When Did You Cut Your Face?

When Hermione walked into the Great Hall the morning after the spectacle in the hallway, the last thing she expected was to see an enthusiastic Sirius waving her over. She stopped in her tracks and stared at him blankly, but he just shot her a cheeky grin and smacked the empty spot next to him – to the surprise of everyone. It was one thing to announce to everyone that he had changed his mind about her being a bigot, but it was another thing altogether to invite her to sit with him and his less than welcoming friends.

While less suspicious than she had been before, she was still skeptical as she approached cautiously, taking the time to gauge their reactions to her approach.

Besides Remus, who was smiling and nodding encouragingly at her, Peter seemed to be the only other one undisturbed by her presence. James and Lily shared an odd expression that she couldn't quite read, and Georgie simply huffed quietly from her seat next to Lily, before continuing to eat her breakfast.

When she finally reached the table, Sirius and Remus separated a bit more, creating ample space for her to sit between them. Offering them both a hesitant smile, she took the proffered seat, grateful to be sitting next to Remus.

"Well, aren't you hungry?" Sirius asked, nudging her slightly.

Hermione looked at the piles of food in front of her, and gingerly grabbed some pancakes. She was half expecting them to explode due to some nasty prank they conjured up, but nothing of the sort happened.

She looked for the maple syrup and found it across the table in between Georgie and Lily, whom were both having pancakes as well. She opened her mouth to ask politely if they might hand it over, but as she caught Lily's eyes, the redhead pointedly looked away, ignoring her parted mouth and raised hand pointing to the sugary syrup. Hermione deflated slightly at the obvious refusal to even attempt civility towards her.

Sirius spoke up, "Oi, pass the syrup."

"What? Having maple with your bacon, Sirius?" Lily commented, somewhat scathingly.

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "First, bacon and maple syrup are fantastic together so don't knock it. Second, I asked for the bloody maple syrup not a kidney."

Lily rolled her eyes and made a show of being too busy cutting her pancakes to pass it to him. Georgie shook her head and picked it up, pouring a bit more on her own stack, before passing it to Sirius, ignoring Lily's look of annoyance.

"There, drama queen."

"Cheers." Sirius tipped his head in gratitude and poured barely a smidgeon of maple on his plate, grimacing as he did so. He then placed the syrup right beside Hermione's hand, subtly winking at her.

Strangely touched, she took the syrup and poured a generous portion on her plate.

"James," Lily announced, "hurry up, we have to go to the meeting soon."

James nodded, shovelling more food into his mouth. "Why isn't Remus getting scolded?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Because he's finished eating and is reliable."

James shot her an exaggerated hurt look. "Lily-flower… I am very reliable. Tell her Remus."

Remus scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, he _did_ return my potions book ten minutes after he asked to borrow it for study."

"And his snoring _did_ wake me up early that morning I asked for a wakeup call," Sirius contributed. "But then again, he did leave me for dead when McGonagall got wind of my nightly escapades…"

Remus nodded considerately. "And let's not forget when he locked us all in a room with one of Hagrid's babies after checking to see if the coast was clear of Filch…"

"And he did scratch my back when I asked him to," Peter added cheerfully.

Everyone went quiet and looked in Peter's direction.

"You totally missed the mark on what we were doing there mate," Sirius chuckled.

Peter flushed slightly but grinned childishly. "Sorry."

James clapped him on the back, "No worries, Pete! Just never share that backscratching story again."

Remus stood. "But really, we should get going."

The others nodded and stood as well, following behind with joyful goodbyes and promises of seeing each other in class. Georgie decided to go sit with Alice, not giving any real reason for her departure, and Peter realised he had forgotten his books, and ran back to the common room, leaving only Sirius and Hermione.

The moment they were out of sight, Sirius spat out his mouthful of food.

The time traveller looked at him concerned. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but you owe me big time."

"What for?"

"For eating that dreadful combination of bacon and syrup."

"But you said you liked it."

"I only said that to get the bloody syrup! Bacon and maple syrup? That's an American thing, love."

Hermione chuckled. "Well you didn't have to eat it."

"Yes, I did!" he defended emphatically. "I ran out of all my other food and Lily was glaring at me. I had to eat it!"

Hermione shook her head amused. "No one asked you to, you know."

"No, but no one else was going to do it for you."

Hermione was truly touched.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't think too much into it," he replied casually, just as the bell rang. "Time to get to class, what've you got?"

"Charms."

"Well I have a free. I'll show you where it is."

"Sirius, I know where it is by now."

He shrugged. "It gives me something to do."

Hermione nodded and grabbed her things, following him out of the busy hall.

She caught Severus' eye through the crowd as she passed, and saw the odd look he shot her, but she didn't have time to seek him out, as Sirius continued ahead of her, unaware.

* * *

><p>Despite Sirius' long legs and quick stride, he matched her slower speed, choosing instead to walk next to her. His continued silence suggested that he was waiting for her to speak first.<p>

"What do you usually do in your free time?" she asked, more for feeling awkward in the silence than anything else.

"Prongs has a free as well, so usually we'll just muck around and do whatever we fancy at the time. Since he's got the meeting today I probably won't see him 'til lunch."

"Why did you invite me to sit with you at breakfast?" Hermione asked, her curiosity finally getting the better of her.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Should I have not?"

"No, that's not what I mean," she quickly assured him. "I mean - why would you force your friends to suffer my presence when they can't stand me?"

He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his long hair.

"We've discussed you at length already," he confessed.

The black haired girl raised a brow. "Really? All good things, I'm sure."

Sirius ducked his head slightly at the reminder. "I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt here; you could at least appreciate the gesture instead of throwing it back in my face."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Forget I said anything."

The silence returned, and by the time they reached her class, it had become tense and awkward once more. She watched as Sirius gave her a nod and turned to walk away, but still feeling bad, she called out to him.

He stopped and looked at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry. My past makes it difficult to forgive and forget all the wrongs done to me."

His eyes visibly softened. "I know. Believe me, I know." And with that he turned and walked away.

Hermione straightened her back and looked straight ahead, walking into her class.

Eyes on the mission girl. Eyes on the mission.

* * *

><p>When her last class before lunch finished, Hermione was surprised to see Severus by her classroom door. He gestured that she follow him, and discreetly left their fellow students behind, winding up in an empty classroom.<p>

She didn't even open her mouth before he handed her a sheet of paper.

"What is this?"

"A port key."

She stared at him blankly. "And why are you giving me this?"

"You told me about Salazar Slytherin's locket. That it was in a cave but you didn't know where exactly. Only vague notions from what Harry said."

"Yes," she confirmed, confused briefly before her eyes lit up, "Are you telling me you found it?"

He nodded. "I let lose a rumour amongst the followers that the first to find it would be rewarded handsomely for his efforts by the dark lord. It's amazing how they scrambled in their attempts to find it."

"Snape!" she snapped, "Now they're going to go to Voldemort telling him they know where his Horcrux is and expecting a reward. They'll be killed, Severus, and it'll lead them back to you!"

He glared at her. "How stupid do you think I am? I covered my tracks of course. When they all came forward with their own locations, I told them that it was a hoax. They were less than impressed until I told them that it was a ruse to see who among them was the most loyal. They all became arrogant pompous' after that, and gave no mind that I copied their maps. From there on it was simply a process of elimination."

She stared at him in awe. "You are a genius."

He nodded. "I know."

He grabbed her hand holding the parchment and pointed to the word written on it. _Lily_.

"Say this and it will activate. I don't care who you go with Hermione, but please, from what you've told me, it would be unwise to go alone."

She nodded frantically. "Yes, I know. But do you have any idea what this means?"

"I suppose you are going to tell me?"

"After this there will only be three left."

He nodded. "Yes, but they'll be the hardest."

Severus' stomach suddenly grumbled, and his face went red from embarrassment. "We won't go now," he told her, trying to play it off, "tonight will be more prudent."

She nodded. Yes…tonight.

"Ah, Hermione? When did you cut your face?"

"What?!"

She quickly conjured a mirror and gazed into it, revealing the scar on her face.

"The potion has worn off," she told him urgently, "I can't be seen like this, I need you to run to my quarters and get it from my bathroom. You'll know which one it is! Hurry! And pain relief!"

She sighed heavily as he rushed out the door. Thank Merlin Severus had needed to speak to her, or else the situation she now found herself in would have been worse. She thought she had more time before it started to reappear. Looking into the mirror again, she noticed the difference a few minutes had made. Her eye was once again a pale grey due to blindness, and her face had begun to burn in agony. She had no idea why the pain was delayed, but it was definitely making its presence known now. As she cradled her face with her hand and sobbed silently into it, she wished she had just used a glamour, but unfortunately, they were unpredictable and easily undone.

She felt the skin rip open to recreate the wound and she screamed. It felt as though it had happened again, that Greybacks razor sharp claws had ripped her face open yet again.

She wasn't aware it was this painful, the last time the potion had worn off and it appeared she'd woken up to it. She was amazed the pain hadn't woken her but by Merlin _the pain_!

The door opened and Hermione felt relief that Severus was back. She turned to him, mouth open to thank him, when she realised the person who entered was not who she expected.

"Silea, I heard screaming-!"

There stood Sirius, hand still on the doorknob, his face frantic. "Sweet Merlin…" he whispered, his eyes bulging when his gaze landed on her face.

"Sirius…" she tried to sound stern, but it came out as a whimper. "You need to go," she all but pleaded, looking away from him, trying her hardest to hide what little he hadn't seen.

He stared at her for a few moments, his brain trying to catch up with what was occurring. "What? No!" he exclaimed, rushing towards her. "Merlin, Silea… What did you do?" he asked softly, bringing his fingers to her face tenderly, trying to force her to look at him. She didn't.

"Now's not the time to be bloody stubborn, woman!" he barked. "It needs to be treated!"

As gently as he could, he forced her to face him, bringing them eye to eye. His brow furrowed as he stared at her uncomprehending.

"This isn't new."

She shrugged his hands away and turned her back on him. "No, it's not. And it would be appreciated if you didn't ask about it."

They stood in silence for a few minutes, Hermione waiting for him to leave while she withheld tears of pain, and Sirius because he didn't know what to do.

"Merlin, Silea… I'm so sorry."

She turned to him and looked at him through her one good eye. "What for?"

His eyes lingered on her face, scanning the cut that started atop her forehead and ended at her lip. It was deep, ugly and surprisingly the only one. There were no matching claw marks, just the single one, and Hermione knew people came to the wrong conclusion when they saw it.

"You don't deserve the pain your family put you through."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, giving him a long hard look before realising that he was assuming that she had been abused.

For the first time in a long time she wanted to defend the Malfoy's, to laugh in Sirius' face and call him silly for his presumption. But she held her tongue and looked to the floor in shame. It was better that he came to his own conclusions, because telling him that Greyback was the one who did it would not be allowed to slide.

She looked to the door to see if Severus was back yet, but saw no one.

Sirius stepped towards her and pulled something from a pocket in his robes. "Here, it's Dittany."

"Thank you, but it won't make any difference."

"Even so, please use it."

She sighed, but took the proffered bottle. Holding up the mirror, she adjusted her head to the side to get a better look at the scar as she attempted to open the bottle. Trying to accomplish that, as well as apply it however, proved to be quite difficult. It didn't help that her hands were shaking from the pain.

A pair of hands gently took the bottle. "Here, let me do it."

He opened the bottle and slowly drew her face closer to him, and dabbed the liquid onto a conjured cotton ball, before gently applying it to her face. He was very delicate in his task, and kept looking at her face as though searching for any signs of discomfort.

"It should be stinging," he commented.

"It doesn't."

Finally accepting that it was a fruitless task, he removed the cotton ball and stoppered the bottle.

"Why do you carry dittany, anyway?"

He shrugged. "I get into mischief a lot." He reached up again and carefully held her face in his hands. "Does it hurt?"

"For now."

They both froze, their eyes transfixed on the other, unable to look away. Hermione knew she should slap his hands away, glare at him and tell him to respect her personal space, but she didn't want to. Despite all logic, her pain seemed to lessen with his touch, his mere presence.

"Your eye…"

"It's blind," she deadpanned.

"Well, that's good to know, but I was going to say that it's Lily white."

Hermione barely had time to gasp in surprise before she felt the port key activate and take the two of them away.


End file.
